Excessive Misbehavior
by Bob the Flying Monkey
Summary: The Lair, headquarters and home of the Death Eaters, just got a new member. She is the only single lady, and she is stirring up all kinds of trouble for ALL the boys. PreSeventhBook. SPOILERS! Rated T for suggestive content, but no descriptions.
1. An Introduction to Insanity

_Disclaimer: I do not own any song lyrics used or represented in the story. Nor do I own Harry Potter. I also do not own the lists from which the ideas for this story came from, the main ones being "123 Ways to Annoy Voldemort" presented by MuggleNet and also "100 Ways" by know-it-all-bookworm._

**A/N: Enjoy this psychotic use of my time!**

* * *

pop pop pop Pop Pop Pop POP!

"Ugh! Not this again," Voldemort groaned, reluctantly opening his eyes. He sat up in bed and glared at the unwelcome guest.

She smiled maliciously back at him, and continued to Apperate and Disapperate repetitively in and out of his room. She spoke between pops, "Good… morning… Ickle… Voldy… Kins…"

"It's 2 am!" he shouted back at her, "Don't you ever sleep?"

"It's… not… necc-… essary… I'm… part… vamp… pire…"

"Surely you must get tired."

"Nope…"

Agitated, he picked up his pillow and threw it at her. She caught it and Disapperated with it. This time she did not return. "Finally," Voldemort sighed, laying back down.

Unfortunately, at four in the morning, the popping started again. Grumbling, Voldemort sat back up and began cursing at her. Then he began shooting curses at her. Regrettably, none of them hit.

On her last pop in, she dropped a pillow. Then the popping stopped and she was gone. Voldemort stumbled over to the pillow, thinking, _What did she do to this one?_ When he picked it up, he saw that it was studded with pink and purple rhinestones, spelling her pet-name for him. Defeated, he slammed the pillow down on his bed and proceeded to rest.

The next morning in the Lair, Voldemort commanded his advisory, Severus Snape, to bring to him that annoying little girl. Snape, being the only one to ever capture her, set off on his routine quest. He didn't much mind it. It was, after all, always an adventure tracking her.

"Peeves! Come out, come out wherever you are!" he called in his monotone.

An unearthly cackle erupted from above him, spreading to circle around him, attacking his ears from all sides. It lasted for about 3 minutes.

"This is getting ridiculous," Snape yelled at the ceiling.

"You're ridiculous, calling me Peeves. That's not my name, Severus." Another round of cackling ricocheted through the hall.

"The Master is terribly angry with you," Snape warned.

"He's always mad at me."

"You bring it on yourself."

"I know. That's precisely what I intend."

"Come, now, child. Let's not keep the Master waiting."

"Fine," she huffed whiningly. With a sudden pop, she appeared beside him. Immediately, she grabbed his arm and squeezed it tightly to her chest, squealing.

"Get off!" he commanded, flailing his robed limb.

"You know you like it, Sevy."

"You are very queer."

"Why, thank you! I pride myself in being outrageously weird."

With a sigh, Snape tugged the girl down the hall to meet her fate.

"Bobbi!" Voldemort roared as the two entered the room.

"Merry Kwanza, Tommy-boy!" she squealed in her annoyingly childish voice.

"It's not Kwanza," a confused newcomer replied.

"Ignore her," instructed a fellow Death Eater, "She's crazy."

"But riotly hilarious," added a younger brother.

"Silence!" demanded Voldemort.

"You better do what Ickle-Voldie-Kins says, else he'll get ya."

"Why does she talk that way?" the newbie whispered.

"She's an American," he explained.

"Better," Bobbi inserted, "I'm an Italian-American. My father was an Italian vampire. When he came to America, he met my mother, a Native American werewolf. They were both magical," she said the word with an exaggerated waving of her hands, forming a rainbow.

"She's half vampire, half werewolf, and two hundred percent witch," the younger brother summarized.

"That's why no one can out-do me, not even the Man-Who-Let-The-Boy-Live over here," Bobbi gloated.

"What about Snape?" Wormtail asked.

"Sevy-Wevy can't control me. I simply chose to give in to him."

"Enough!" Voldemort screamed.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Bobbi clicked, " Temper, temper. You really need to work on that. Hey! I know this great psychiatrist in London-"

"Shut-up!" Voldemort pulled back his hand to slap her, but at the last second she disappeared, and Voldemort instead slapped Snape, who crumpled to the floor.

Another evil cackle sounded from nowhere, filling the room. Then she was back, flying around the room on a broom. "I'm a pirate, you guys!" She then proceeded to talk in a parrot voice, "Walk the plank."

"Bring her down!" Voldemort commanded, the large blood vessel in his forehead bulging.

All in the room immediately started shooting chains of curses at her, not one hitting.

"Urgh! Why is she so difficult to capture?" the new guy whined.

"Didn't you hear me? She's 200% witch. That's higher than a pureblood."

"How does that work?"

"Not really sure. Hey, Bobbi! How are you 200% witch?"

"I don't have to use a wand to channel my powers. And vampires are extra magical. Yeah, I'm that cool. None of ya'll can beat me! Ha-haha, ha-haha!"

"That's enough, Bobbi." The entire room turned at the voice of Draco Malfoy. He had a serious face on despite his joyous feelings toward the situation.

"Oh, Drakey-poo! You make my knees go weak," she sighed dramatically, then laughed at her own joke, "Good thing I'm on a broom. For serial, cousin, do you honestly think you can stop me?" But she descended to the floor and obediently left the broom. She skipped up to Draco and wrapped her arms around him.

Despite being subjected regularly to such displays of affection, his breath caught anyway. The beauty of an Italian-Indian vampiress always had that effect over pubescent boys. In fact, it called that reaction from all boys and men. Except for with Snape who had grown accustomed to Bobbi's overwhelming beauty.

Degradingly, Bobbi ruffled Draco's perfectly slicked-back hair, giggled, and pinching his cheek said, "Silly little boy! Does Drakey-Wakey-Diddy-Doody-Kins think he can command his wittle cousy-wousy?" Giggling in the way only an innocently sweet little girl could, she fled his side, skipping inhumanly fast out of the room and down the hall.

"Fool!" Voldemort yelled at Draco, "Why did you not contain her?"

"Because he couldn't contain the feeling in his pants!" Bobbi's voice rang.

Draco's face flushed, and he pulled his hood over his head. Some of the Death Eaters snickered. Abruptly the song "I'm So Excited" rang through the building. Even more Death Eaters joined in snickering.

"You are dismissed," Snape told Draco. With a grateful bow, Draco left.

...

Later that afternoon, Voldemort called a Death Eater meeting to announce his newest plan to destroy Harry Potter. Somewhere near the back of the gathering, Bobbi sat with the new kid, Phil, and shared her usual comments with him. She smiled as Voldemort talked, then whispered to Phil, "I taught him everything he knows." He chuckled lightly.

At the end of the speech but before it was over, Bobbi stood up alone and clapped loudly, "Yay, Voldy-kins! Good job!"

"Bobbi!" he grumbled and sent a curse flying at her. But she Disapperated just in time, and it hit a man behind her. He turned to stone on impact.

"If she is such a nuisance, why don't they just get rid of her?" Phil asked an older member.

"Have you ever tried to catch her? It's impossible! Not even You-Know-Who can do it."

"Really? Then why don't they kill her?" Phil questioned.

"Are you crazy? She's part werewolf! She's the best fighter we've got. Plus, she's part vampire, so she's immortal anyway. She's just too strong and powerful to harm."

"I see," Phil concluded.

* * *

The next day, Bobbi's mood changed drastically. Yesterday she had been wearing a bright colored t-shirt and bellbottom jeans. Today, she came out of her room wearing black robes. Her once cheery face was now white and stoic. Phil, whose room was a few doors down, was shocked by her new appearance. "What happened to you?" he exclaimed.

"Morning Phil," she answered in a bored voice.

"Good morning, Bobbi," he restarted.

"No, I mean morning is what happened to me. I'm not a morning person."

"Oh, okay." Phil walked down the hall along side Bobbi. They entered the Dining Hall together. As usual, most of the occupants were drowsily silent. Some Death Eaters, however, were morning people and were talking quietly to each other.

When Voldemort walked into the room, everyone stood and bowed. This time, Bobbi did not take the opportunity to do a stupid stunt. Instead, she bowed humbly with her fellow Death Eaters. Voldemort noticed this and when everyone was seated, he strode over to Bobbi. "Morning," he smiled.

"Morning," Bobbi sighed dispirited.

"Have any ideas for me, child?"

"Just a couple," she pulled a note pad from her robes, ripped out a few sheets, and handed them to him.

"Excellent," he exclaimed, then left.

Snape eventually joined Bobbi at her table, Draco following him.

"Morning," Snape greeted in his monotone.

"Morning," Bobbi sighed.

"Morning," Draco said.

"Morning," Bobbi repeated.

"Morning," Crabbe and Goyle Jrs. called as they made their way to Bobbi's table.

"I wish people would stop reminding me," Bobbi groaned.

"I don't get it," Phil confessed.

"She's not a morning person. In fact, she hates the morning, especially when it's bright out." Draco explained.

Bobbi groaned, laying her head down on the table. "I need to kill something," she mumbled.

"Luckily for you," Snape informed them, "we recently discovered a camp of rebel wizards. We are planning on conquering them tonight."

"Good," Bobbi mumbled, "I'll have my strength back tonight."

"Will you be joining us, newbie?" Draco sneered.

"Perhaps," Phil answered, "If it is the Master's wishes."

"Have you had your first raid yet?" Bobbi asked.

"No."

"Good. You come with us tonight."

...

Later that afternoon, Voldemort called together his Death Eaters. "Who will join in the raid?"

Bobbi, Phil, Draco, Goyle Jr., Crabbe Jr., and some others raised their hands. After preparations, they set off on their mission.

"Don't follow me too closely," Bobbi warned Phil, "I go crazy on my killing sprees."

Confused but obedient, Phil nodded. When they arrived, he understood why she said this. As soon as they arrived, she transformed into a werewolf. She immediately began hacking at any enemy she saw, and all she touched were slain. She then began tossing them around in her teeth, making a terribly bloody mess. It was so gory, Phil couldn't watch for long, and he became sick to his stomach.

At the end of the fight, most of the enemy had been killed. Only a couple of Death Eaters had died. When it was over, they sent up the Dark Mark. In addition, Bobbi sent up her own Mark, a broken heart with a snake slithering through the middle. It was not quite as large, but it still was noticeable.

Draco pointed to her Mark and explained, "She likes people to know that she helped."

"I always tell the Dark Lord that he should have a sign that is more socially acceptable," Bobbi added cheerily as she skipped over to the boys. She was covered head to toe in blood, none of it her own. She wiped at her mouth with the shredded sleeve of her robe. It had little effect.

"You seem more chipper," Phil observed.

"I always feel better after a hunt, although what I do isn't really hunting since hunting includes a possibility of failure. I guess you could say I go killing," Bobbi bragged. She danced around the four boys, spinning and twirling in loose circles. Laughing, she fell to the ground and lay in the mud. "Don't I look a not mess!"

"You smell too," Draco added.

"Bold, young Draco. I'm still on the edge of my werewolf stage." Then with a flash of movement, she had Draco pinned on the ground, bared fangs not an inch from his throat. He was so shocked, he couldn't move. She let the moment sink in, then slowly lifted herself off of his frozen body. She laughed, shaking out her long, dirty hair. She was so filthy that one would not know she was a blonde unless they already knew, and even then would have doubts. She pulled Draco off the ground and said, "Come on, guys. We should leave before others start showing up."

Obediently, the boys followed her example, all Disapperating at once. They reappeared outside the Lair. It was dark and raining, the perfect scene for a shower. Bobbi phased, tearing off her torn robes and galloping into the rain. The boys were so engrossed in her flaunty, elegant moves that they did not notice a tall, shadowy figure stroll up behind them. "Fascinating, isn't she," came a deep voice that startled them. They turned to find Snape staring longingly at her. He continued in an admiring tone, "Unlike any other werewolf I've ever seen. She has complete control over her actions while she's a wolf."

"And she doesn't need a full moon to transform, either," Draco added.

"That is why we keep her despite her many flaws," said a patronus in the form of a giant, flowing serpent.

"My Lord?" asked Snape.

"Yes, Snape," came the cool reply, "As I was saying, she is one of a kind. Being both werewolf and vampire in itself is rare. It is even more rare that she is all this and a witch. But what makes her truly one of a kind is that she's a pureblood witch." The serpent coiled itself up and sat staring at the prancing werewolf.

After a few more minutes, the werewolf shook herself and then vanished.

"Where did she go?" Phil exclaimed.

"To her room probably. She is, afterall, nude." Draco sighed.

"I bet you'd fancy seeing her nude," Goyle nudged him, winking.

"She's a crossbreed!" he gasped in disgust.

"Doesn't matter. She's hot."

"If you fancy her so much, then why don't you go with her?"

"Perhaps I will," Goyle countered.

"Pubescent teenage boys," Snape sighed.

...

Later that night, Phil was walking down the hall to investigate a loud racket that was keeping him awake. He found that the noise was coming from Bobbi's room. He knocked once and the door opened by itself. Curious, he pushed it a crack further, just to peek in. but his stealth wasn't enough for Bobbi's enhanced hearing. "Come in, Phil," she sang.

As always, he obeyed. Bobbi patted the window cushion next to her. "You're just in time," she told him, pointing out the window. Outside, dancing in only boxers under the crying storm clouds were six figures: Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy, Jr.'s and Sr.'s. Then Bobbi began singing along with her Muggle stereo, "She'll make you take your clothes off and go dancing in the rain. She will make you go insane!"

Phil laughed in astonishment. "I suppose you used the Imperious curse on them."

"Not on Goyle Jr., but when they get caught, don't tell anyone that. Mum's the word, 'kay?"

"Um, sure. Whatever." Phil was enjoying this little show. "Do you do this often?"

"Not this in particular, though I have done this before. But yes, I do pull stupid yet hilarious pranks often. Tonight I couldn't resist the rain. The rain always gets me. It charges the battery of my spirit!"

"Bobbi, what is the meaning of this raucous?" Snape scolded, walking into the room.

"It's music, Severus. It releases the bottled up feelings of the heart. And it's fun."

"You are not here to have fun, young lady."

"Relax. You act like my father. Come and join us in watching the show." She patted the seat on her other side.

"What show?" Snape questioned, making his way over to the window. As he observed the scene, Bobbi noticed the corners of his mouth rise a fraction of an inch.

"Hey, Phil. Hold my wand for me while I go to the bathroom," Bobbi instructed him, "Just keep it pointed at them, 'kay." She left.

Snape and Phil continued to watch in her absence. Within two minutes, she was back. However, she was not alone. "See, Master. Just like I told you."

Phil turned sharply at her words. Snape erected himself slowly and turned, bowing slightly. In the doorway stood Bobbi, Voldemort, and a group of unseen Death Eaters.

"Explain yourselves," Voldemort commanded the two simply.

"Master, I came to investigate the source of the obnoxious music," Snape explained smoothly.

"I-I," Phil stuttered.

"Look out the window, Sir," Bobbi suggested.

Voldemort walked calmly to the window, glared out into the rain, chuckled, and turned to face the group. "Who has used the Imperious Curse on these men?"

Bobbi pointed accusingly at Phil. He reacted with a hurt, frightened look. "No, I-"

"You are the one holding the wand," Voldemort pointed out.

"It's hers, Lord!"

"He stole my wand, too!" Bobbi accused, crossing her arms. "I thought you were my friend, Phil. Yet you try to frame me!" Bobbi cried at him, tears brimming her perfect, fuchsia eyes.

"But I didn't!" Phil argued, "Why would I try to frame you for something I did?"

"To get me in trouble," Bobbi answered.

"What do you care? You always do things like this," Phil countered.

"Exactly. You knew that I would be blamed for your prank."

"It was your prank done by you!"

"Stop arguing," Snape commanded, "We will settle this with Legilimancy. You first, boy; open your mind." There was a pause. "I said open your mind, boy. Let me hear your thoughts."

"I am opening my mind," Phil said.

"You are not. You are blocking."

"No I am not!"

"Let me, Snape," Voldemort said. He glared into Phil's terrified eyes, concentrating. A puzzled look crossed his brow. He glared more intently at Phil. "Open your thoughts."

"I am, Lord," Phil whimpered.

"Don't be difficult, child. You refuse to show us the truth, so we shall inspect the girl's mind." He turned from Phil to stare at Bobbi. "Show us the truth, girl."

Bobbi closed her eyes. She looked innocent, serene.

"Open your eyes, child."

Obediently, Bobbi's eyelids receded. There was a new, eerie presence in them. After about a minute, Voldemort smiled and looked away. "The girl is telling the truth," he declared.

"What? No she's not!" Phil yelled.

"We've had enough of your lies, Phil. Now uncurse those people," Bobbi retorted.

Angrily, he threw her wand at her, "You do it!"

Bobbi took her wand and muttered the anti-spell. Then she turned to Phil and said, "Can't even clean your own messes."

"You did it, Bobbi!"

"My memory will show that I did not," she informed him. "Take a look for yourself."

"I will." And he did. But what he saw displeased him. Her memory confirmed that she was telling the truth, that he had barged into the room, took her wand, and Imperio'd the 6 men. He pulled away, bewildered. "But… how?"

"What do you mean 'how'? You did it. I saw it. That's how."

"But-but-but," Phil glanced around at the others in the room. He was so confused, his head began to throb. "But-but-but," he repeated.

"To the dungeon, Master?" Snape inquired.

"Yes, Snape. Escort him there."

"No, wait! She's lying. I know she's lying." Phil pleaded.

"How could I lie? You saw my thoughts. Memories don't lie."

"But you are!" he yelled in crazy frustration.

"The poor boy's delirious," Random-Death-Eater-Number-5 laughed. Then suddenly, the whole group burst into laughter. Even the Dark Lord Voldemort chuckled a bit. Phil was even more confused, and slightly frightened at the Dark Lord's merriment.

Bobbi was laying on the floor, laughing so hard that her eyes watered and she had to clutch her stomach. "What are you laughing for?" Phil screamed at her.

"You're not really in trouble, Phil. This whole ordeal was to test my powers. They know you're innocent," Bobbi explained once she was able to control herself.

When the room quieted down, Lord Voldemort turned to Bobbi, "Excellent work, Bobbi. Your magic is more advanced than any other witch in history. How did you change your memories to deceive us without great preparation?"

"Lot's of practice, Master."

"May I ask," started Snape, "how did you use Oclumency on another's mind, especially against the greatest masters of Legilimency?"

"Black magic and a complex Italian trick. It takes a lot of concentration, but it's easier when-" she stopped, pondering her secret, "I'll tell ya later."

"I'm gonna kill you Bobbi!" came an enraged scream from down the hall. The Death Eaters in the doorway stepped aside to reveal a soaked Draco, eyes ablaze with anger.

"Come now, Draco. Don't be so temper-mental," Bobbi scolded, "You know it was funny."

"Not on me. I have had enough of your stupid games! You may be a great sorcerer, but that doesn't give you the right to misuse your powers!" Draco yelled in a fatherly manner.

"I am so sorry, Draco. I swear, I will never play another prank again," she vowed dramatically.

"Don't mock me. I am your superior, crossbreed!"

The room went completely silent. Everyone looked to Bobbi for her reaction. She stared at Draco, just stared, like she couldn't believe those words had come from between his lips. But she quickly overcame her shock as rage pushed itself into the spot. Her face contorted into a furious expression. Bobbi glared at Draco, burning holes in his face. "Duel. Now," she said seriously. The games were over. This was war. She shoved past him into the hall. Not to be outdone, Draco spun sharply around, flinging water over several others, and followed her briskly down the hall, nose in the air. Without a word, the spectators followed them down to the dueling chamber.

Bobbi took the side furthest from the door. Once they were both in place, she began, "Rules: No Unforgivable Curses; no Stupefy; nothing too girly, okay? Don't embarrass yourself anymore than necessary."

"Two more: Wands only (don't use Accio); and don't phase into a werewolf," Draco added.

"Ready, then?" Bobbi bowed.

"On your mark," Draco bowed.

The duel began. Draco cast the first hex, which Bobbi deflected easily. Bobbi threw the next curse, a basic, first-year curse. Draco deflected it like a wad of paper. The next few curses from each were deflected. While most of Draco's curses were difficult curses, all of Bobbi's were simple, and Draco took notice. "Are you just fooling with me? I know you can do better," Draco challenged angrily.

"I just thought you'd appreciate a little practice before I kick your butt. Make you feel like you actually did something, you know," Bobbi shrugged.

"Well, knock it off. It's demeaning."

"Fine. It's your funeral."

The next round was more eventful. Draco sank his first blow, managing to knock Bobbi to the ground a few feet back. However, she stood up laughing and shot a mid-level spell at him, which slung him into the air about 8 yards off the ground, landing him against the wall some 50 feet away, where he slid quickly to the ground. He landed in a crumpled heap on the cold, stone floor. He laid motionless for a moment.

"Get up, Draco!" Lucious Malfoy bellowed, "Don't let that _mutt_ beat you!"

At these words, Bobbi's eyes changed color, turning a glowing blood red. They pulsated with fury. "After I defeat your son, you're next," she promised in a dead tone. She turned back to Draco's body. Raising and pointing her wand at him, she muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa." His body floated into the air, limp and pitiful. With a few slight jerks of her head, Bobbi had Draco in a standing position, his feet not quite touching the floor. She help him there. "Wake up, Draco! I hit you once. Is that how you want to be remembered? You only get in one hit before a girl knocks you out cold? How pathetic! What will your father say? Will he be proud? Absolutely not! Prove you're not that weak. Wake up!"

Draco stirred, just a smidgeon. He groaned, clutching the back of his damp head. Impatiently, Bobbi lifted her empty hand, waving it gently. A pool of water fell atop his head, jarring him into consciousness. "Hey!" he yelled, "I said no Accio!"

"I didn't use Accio, dip-face! I conjured it. Now let's continue." She dropped him onto his feet, where he staggered before regaining his balance. "Your move, Draco."

Wiping his brow, Draco raised his wand and whispered, "Sectumsempra." But Bobbi used a mirror counter, and it reflected back at him. An anguished cry erupted from Draco as various sections of his skin split open.

"A dirty tactic, Draco. They always come back at you," Bobbi muttered, then louder said to him, "Do you like reruns, Draco? Isn't this one of the numerous spells Potter used to defeat you? You shouldn't trust fire that has burned you before." With a bored sense of satisfaction, she sat down cross-legged. This battle was over and she had won. But the war was still unresolved.

Snape and Lucious ran into the dungeon, hastening to assist Draco. "Don't worry," assured Snape, "I know what to do. I've had to heal him of this before." But as he reached down to lift the boy, Draco screamed, "Don't touch me!" so instead Snape used Wingardium Leviosa to carry him out of the room.

As Lucious turned to follow his son, Bobbi called to him, "Where do you think you're going, Mr. Malfoy? I thought we were going to duel now. I have defeated your son. It is your turn to learn a lesson."

"I don't think so."

"Oh, I see. So you are afraid that I will humiliate you in front of all your buddies. You know you're no match for me. Poor bombino Lucious. Such a tiny, frail thing. Afraid he'll be bitten by a teething puppy."

Her taunting stopped him. He turned to face her.

She smiled, knowing she had him. "I'll make you a deal, okay sonny. How about if I put a muzzle on? Will you duel me then, or are you still a weakling?"

With angry self-confidence, Lucious strode onto the dueling floor.

Bobbi smirked, "And for the record, I'm a pureblood wolf, not a French poodle like yourself."

"Stop insulting me and let's begin so I can win back our good name."

"Would you like to start?"

"I believe the inferior should begin."

"That'd be a yes." Bobbi bowed. Lucious returned the bow cockily.

"Same rules apply," Bobbi verified.

Lucious cast the first curse. It was an advanced-level spell, yet Bobbi blocked it easily. She cast her spell, one far more advanced than his. He tried to block it, but it tore through his shield as if it had been wet toilet paper. The curse started with puncture wounds through each wrist and just below each ankle. Lucious sank to the floor. But it wasn't over. Next, dozens of tiny pricks appeared around his head and began bleeding. Then invisible whips began to beat his back, shredding his robes and leaving whelps. Lucious cried out. He tried to stand, but the pain was crippling and he landed on his rump. To end the curse, an invisible spear punctured his side, and he collapsed into a motionless heap, just as his son had.

"Darn it!" Bobbi pouted, "That was completely out of order. I need to work on that one." She then turned to the spectators, "Would one of you take him down to the infirmary before he loses anymore blood? Crabbe, you take him."

Wet but obedient, Crabbe Sr. ran into the room and retrieved his fallen brother.

As he left, Bobbi challenged, "Anyone else want to try me? I'm pumped and ready for action." Pause. "No takers? Oh, come on. I'll go easy on you, I swear. We could wrestle if you like. Anyone up for that?" Still no answer. "Oh, you British are such weaklings. I swear, sometimes I wonder how this country can survive with such pussies." The crowd shifted at her words, but still none volunteered. "Okay, how 'bout this: Several of ya'll can come up to battle me together. It could be, like, 3 to 1, 5 to 1, 8 to 1, it doesn't matter. Just humor me."

Finally, there was motion outside the spectators' window. Bobbi sat down and cocked an ear. As she listened, a grin formed on her lips. "Oh, Bellatrix!" she called in a sing-songy voice, "I hear you out there. Come on, Signora cugina. I'm a sweet, little girl. It'll be like taking candy from a baby," then gutsily she added, "although some of us find that a little more difficult than others."

A loud "ooooo" made its way through the crowd. "You shan't insult our lord! Come, let us teach this child a lesson," Bellatrix instructed. A group walked slowly through the room. As they entered, Bobbi counted them. Bellatrix Lestrange lead them, followed by three men she thought were named Yaxley, Dolohov, and Rowle. Then Goyle Sr. and Crabbe Jr. joined the band. The last two men she did not entirely recognize, but believed them to be named Shunpike and Travers. They were both pitifully thin.

"These your groupies, Trixy? A sad lot they are. I hope you all will enjoy getting beat by a dog." Bobbi braced herself for the duel.

"Wait!" came a cry from the audience, and all turned to watch as a younger figure made his way into the room. Goyle Jr. burst awkwardly through the door.

"Ada boy!" cheered his father, "Come on, son. Let's show his girl a thing or two."

"I'm not here to fight on your side," he corrected. He paused, took a breath, and continued, "I'm on her side." He glanced hopefully at Bobbi.

Bobbi put her hand to her chin, as if to ponder. She looked between him and Bellatrix. "Trixy, you wouldn't mind fighting two children, would you? No. Then it's settled. Join me, Gregory. Join the dark side." She reached her hand out to him. Smiling, he scurried to her side of the field. "Rules, Bella?" Bobbi prompted.

"Same as before."

The battle began. It was eight highly trained sorcerers versus two insubordinate children. The odds were odd and no one was certain of the outcome, not even I myself. The first spell came from Rowle. It was directed at Bobbi, who blocked it just like all the others.

"Who should we eliminate first?" Bobbi whispered conspiringly to Gregory.

"Dolohov or Yaxley. They're bloody geniuses of sorcery."

"I'll take your word for it." Then she muttered an incantation that aimed at each individual separately. It took out Shunpike and Travers. They doubled over like snapped twigs and fled the scene swearing. "Now they're down to six. This'll be easy. While they are all aiming at me, you curse at them. Take down the ones who are concentrating hardest on their spells."

Just as she predicted, all six of the opponents shot at her at once. She used a reflection spell while Gregory aimed at Yaxley. Bobbi's counter took out Crabbe, who didn't expect it (he had been changing while her and Draco were dueling). Gregory's spell took out Yaxley who had redirected one but missed the other. He landed on top of Crabbe. The pressure caused him to vomit and pass out. Partially hurt but disgusted by the smell, Yaxley dragged Crabbe off to the infirmary. He did not return.

"Nice work, Greg," Bobbi complemented, "You don't mind if I call you Greg, do you?"

"No ma'am. And thanks."

Four to two. "Unbelievable!" screeched Bellatrix, "How can we defeat you if you keep blocking?"

"You'll just have to use more powerful or more effective spells. Your efforts are pathetic. Plus you need better tactics. If you all shoot at once, I can block them all together. But if you shoot in quick succession…" Bobbi left it hanging.

Bellatrix pondered that, then consulted with her brethren. Meanwhile, Gregory turned to Bobbi, "Why did you tell her that?"

"It's irritating how slow they are. And I need to practice with more practical groups, anyway. Besides, I like a challenge."

The fight continued. Bellatrix's group tried the idea, but Bobbi held her shield until all the curses had been fired. She laughed at their foiled attempt. But as she was laughing, Rowle hit her with a blue stream of light, causing her to stumble, falling on her butt. She laughed again, standing up and dusting herself off. "That was weak!"

Rowle looked bewildered. "That was suppost'a shoot you up into the air until you hit the ceiling and then shoot you backward until you hit the wall. But it barely knocked you over."

"Was it? Hmm, that's odd," Bobbi commented.

"You're some kind of a freak!" Rowle exclaimed, stepping back.

"Why, thank you," Bobbi took a bow.

Gregory took Rowle's lapse in attention to hit him with the same curse. This time it worked. Rowle dropped to the floor in the same fashion Draco had. "Blimey! He was telling the truth. How did you block that without using a curse?" Gregory asked amazed.

"I'm magical," Bobbi chimed with a wave of her hands.

"Let's hurry this up. It's late and we all need to sleep," Bellatrix snapped.

"It's your turn."

"Let's not take turns anymore. Let's just have at it," Bellatrix proposed.

Now they fired at will, setting the room ablaze with light. Everyone got hit at least once, but in the end only Dolohov and Goyle Sr. dropped out and had to be removed by onlookers. Okay, so I lied. This was totally predictable.

"When we send you to the hospital wing, be sure to ask Lucious how it feels getting beat by a dog," Bobbi taunted, then added, "By the way, how does that make you feel?"

"Silence, you miserable freak!"

"Oh, don't be sore," Gregory taunted, "You'll be just like your master now, except there are _two_ babies."

Bellatrix's jaw dropped. It flapped a couple times while her face flushed red with rage. Then a sudden inspiration hit her. Bellatrix muttered an incantation under her breath that Bobbi just barely heard. She gasped as she recalled its effects. It was a redundant curse, one that would repeat until the victim stopped moving. This particular spell caused the pain of thousands of tiny knives striking all over the body. And unfortunately this redundant curse was one of the ones that continued when the victim started moving again. It was a terribly painful curse, just under the ferocity of the Crucius Curse. Bobbi knew that her advanced, hybrid body would be able to dull the intensity so that it didn't repeat after she stopped moving (she had been subjected to it before), but she also remembered the pain it caused despite her armor. This curse, however, was not being aimed at her. No, it was being directed at Gregory - who had no shields, no resistance, no hope. She remembered the last time she had witnessed this curse: the brutality of it was so great that the recipient - a warlock of infamous resilience - was brought to his knees, shrieking in agony - the sound of which haunted her still years later, even though she had no feelings for him, no compassion, no relation. But Gregory was her friend, and she knew she would not be able to forget his screams if she let this happen to him. So with a quick determination, she jumped in front of her partner, taking the curse herself.

The pain was worse than she remembered, not the acupuncture she was expecting. A short yip burst from her mouth, the sound a dog emits when you kick it. She landed on the cold stone with a thud and let her body go limp, knowing that the stabs would stop when she did. Even then she could still feel the sharp stings from the blades she hadn't escaped. She determined not to move for a full minute. She shallowed her breath so that only her lungs moved and only barely. She listened as Bellatrix laughed maniacally, assuming that she had defeated Bobbi. She heard Gregory whimper and drop to his knees behind her, felt him touch her slightly with clammy hands. "No," she breathed. He jerked his hands off immediately. She decided to communicate with him telepathically, _Bobbi is fine, but don't let Trixy know._

Gregory stared down at Bobbi, formulating a plan. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting them water a little for affect, then glared loathingly at Bellatrix. He sent the most powerful curse he knew (aside from an Unforgivable) at her. Much to his displeasure, she dodged it. Then she loudly spoke a spell that Bobbi recognized as equally harmful. Against her instincts and better judgment, Bobbi pushed herself off the ground to block the spell from Gregory. As she did this, she sent her own hex at Bellatrix, catching her off-guard. Both hit simultaneously. Bellatrix dropped to the floor and flopped around in seizure-type motions. Then she went limp.

With Bobbi, the pain was unbearable. The previous curse was back to attack her, though at only half its original damage. The last curse, however, was an electrocution curse, which caused her to spasm and increase the pain. "Stupefy me!" she barked at Gregory.

Confused but obedient, he did. He glanced over at Bellatrix's limp body, shot another crippling curse at her - to be positive that she was defeated - then stood and strode to the middle of the room. He threw up his hands in a triumphant gesture.

The crowd whistled and whooped at his victory. Gregory beamed and basked in the glory of his win. He turned back to look at Bobbi's stunned body. She smiled supportively, beckoning him with a finger. Gregory sauntered over to her, squatting down to talk to her. "Pick me up," she whispered. He did as he was told, lifting her thin, nearly weightless body in his arms and cradling her to his burly chest. He flaunted her gaudily at the crowd, carrying her to the exit and walking smugly past them all.

"Where would you like to go, my lady?" he whispered to her softly.

"Would you fancy showing me off in the hospital wing?" she whispered back, glancing at Rudolfus as he hurried past them, carrying his unconscious wife.

"My father would be there. And Crabbe. And Draco and his father."

"Yes," she laughed in a hiss.

"Everyone we just defeated would be there."

"Plus Snape and a few others, but I like danger."

"To the hospital wing, then."

They followed the Lestranges through the nearly barren halls until at last they reached the hospital. When they entered, Snape greeted them, "Ah, Miss Bobbi. I can see you've been dueling again. Who won?"

"We won, Mr. Snape."

"Then what brings you here? Come to gloat?"

"Oh, sweet Severus, you know I only visit to see you," she giggled.

Snape remained stoic.

"I brings her here, Professor," Gregory amended with a chuckle.

"Oh, good one," Bobbi giggled.

Snape remained unamused.

"Um, where is Lucious?" Bobbi redirected.

As an answer, Snape strolled boredly down the isle. They followed him to nearly the end, where Lucious lay sleeping on his cot. Then he left them to attended to other patients.

"Hold on a sec," said Bobbi, pulling out her wand, "I want to leave him a note." She summoned a scrap of parchment and wrote, "_HOW DOES IT FEEL GETTING BEAT BY A DOG?_" Then she drew a barking pup underneath. "How do I enchant it to bark when he unfolds it?"

"Here, let me show ya." Gregory sat her down on a chair and charmed the drawing to bark. Then he folded it into a card shape and sat it next to the bed on a stand. He then offered Bobbi his hand and pulled her up.

"Thanks, Greg. You don't mind if I call you Greg, do you?"

"I'm partial to Gregory."

"Gregory it is then." She made to walk, but fell suddenly with a surprised cry. "Ow! My ankle."

"Are you alright?" Gregory lowered himself to her level.

"Yeah. It's just my stupid ankle. I sprained it a while back and have been meaning to get it fixed. But I'm lazy when it comes to these things. Oh, frigget, that really hurts!"

"I could carry you again," Gregory proposed, "I don't mind. You're actually rather light."

"You sure?"

"Positive." Once again, he swooped her up easily and carried her away. He walked back down the isle, where they stopped at Draco's cot. Currently he was barking orders at the maidservants, in too much pain to sleep.

"Hey, Draco," greeted Gregory.

"What?" he shouted then realizing who it was, amended, "Oh, hello Goyle. I didn't see you there. They've got this stupid bandage wrapped around my head. Hey, what is that you're carrying?"

"I brought you a get-well present," Gregory answered.

"What is it, a prostitute? I can see legs and feet, but that's about it."

"It's me, Hermione," Bobbi answered in a voice so similar to Hermione's that Draco believed it.

"What?!" he jerked stark up, furious and bewildered. "Oh," he sighed as he saw her face, "It's just you. At least you're not that Mudblood Granger. I'd prefer you over her any day. But what are _you_ doing here? Come to laugh at me for losing?"

"Actually, I came to taunt your father, but I need to get something fixed while I'm here anyway. And I just love you so much, big cousin, that I couldn't elude you for long."

"Oh, shut up. Go bother someone else. By the way, why are you carrying her, Goyle?"

"Trying to get in shape."

"Hmph. Sure." He laid back down gently, dismissing them nonverbally.

Gregory carried Bobbi to Crabbe's cot next. Crabbe was laying there, snoozing lazily. He had his eyes closed and looked content. "Crabbe," Gregory said.

Crabbe opened his eyes slowly. "Well, if it isn't the little traitor himself. Think you've got yourself a girlfriend, but she'll be tired of you in a month and off to the next one. She's a seductress, you know. It's what she does."

"I don't really care, Crabbe," Gregory huffed, peeved, "I'll take whatever I can get."

"All the same, don't let her suck your blood." That said, he went back to sleep.

Turning away from him, Gregory asked, "You wouldn't do that, would you?"

A mischievous smile lit Bobbi's face, then she chuckled, "Of course not."

Gregory smiled, reassured, "Good. Who shall we visit next?"

They moved down the isle to the next occupied cot, where Gregory's father, Goyle Sr., was laying silently. He opened his eyes as they approached. Smiling, he said, "Ah, my son. Good duel. Did you win?"

"I won, yes," Gregory replied. He looked sideways at Bobbi, who nodded approvingly.

Goyle caught this. "So, what about your pretty girlfriend, here? She didn't make it?"

"No sir," Bobbi answered for herself, "I had to quit 'fore the end."

"Give me details." She recapped the ending of the fight, put extra emphases on the parts where Gregory was victorious. Then Goyle asked, "So, why are you here, then?"

"Sprained ankle. I was practicing with Greyback awhile back. He 'accidentally' stepped on my ankle. He is such a cheater and yet I always beat him anyway. So, yeah, that's how I hurt it."

"That can be easily fixed," Goyle smiled.

"We'll see you later, then." Gregory carried Bobbi to the front of the wing. He stopped a passing nurse, "Ma'am, could you take a look at her ankle?"

"What is wrong with it?" she asked harshly.

"Greyback stepped on it," Bobbi answered.

"I'll see what I can do. Lay her down." Gregory obeyed. The nurse poked at the sore ankle. "It's been dislocated. I can fix it, but it'll be a tad painful."

"I can handle it," Bobbi sighed.

When the nurse had finished, Bobbi hopped up to test it. She stomped on it, shook it, and hopped on it. Smiling, she said, "It's fixed!"

"Good," Gregory smiled. The two stood awkwardly for a moment. Then, without a warning, Bobbi skipped towards the exit. Gregory gazed after her, confused.

Upon reaching the door, Bobbi turned back to Gregory and called, "Are you coming?"

"Yeah," Gregory replied, following after her. As soon as he was close enough, she took his hand and tugged him into the hall. As they walked, he decided to make small talk. "So, how old are you?"

"In four weeks, I'll be eighteen."

"Four weeks! It's that close?"

"M-hm. How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen. I'll be nineteen next year." They continued on in silence. After a few minutes, Gregory asked, "Where are we going?"

"We're off to see the Wizard," she sang, "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz." Finally, they came to a stop at a dead end.

"Wha-" Gregory started.

"Shh!" Bobbi scolded, then telepathically commanded, _Ask for Lord Voldemort._

"Lord? Master?" No reply.

"Voldie-poo?" Bobbi tried. Still no reply. She turned to Gregory and whispered, "Okay, just hold my hand and don't say a thing." She Apperated them into a dark room. Gregory saw a large bed at the back. He could hear breathing from its direction, but could not see who it was. All the same, he knew whatever they did next would not be a good idea. Bobbi pulled him over to the side of the bed, where Lord Voldemort was sleeping. "Hold onto me and don't let go, no matter what," she instructed in a whisper. Then she turned to Voldemort, lowered her lips to his ear, and sang loudly, "Round, round, get around, I get around…"

Immediately, Voldemort awoke, shouting, "Bobbi!"

As soon as this happened, she Disapperated, giggling when she landed outside the infirmary doors. She turned to make sure Gregory was still there. He was, laughing loudly but trying to suppress it. They burst through the doors.

Snape, once again, approached them. "What is it now, children?"

Bobbi dropped Gregory's hand and jumped onto Snape, clinging to his arm and squeezing it to her chest. "Oh, I couldn't stand not be near you, Severus dear!" she sighed dramatically.

Snape shook her off with a bored look. "Please escort young Goyle back to his room. He needs sleep, unlike you."

"Should I tuck him in, too?" she asked, but Snape ignored her. Dutifully, she pulled Gregory out the door and down the hall. Without directions, she found his room. "Here you are, sir. My father has told me I must leave you now."

Bobbi made to leave, but Gregory caught her arm and spun her around to look into his pleading eyes. "Stay," he begged softly.

Bobbi giggled, "Unfortunately, I have to leave now. I need to, let's say, satisfy my thirst. I am, after all, a vampire."

Instead of jerking away as most boys usually did, he held her hands for a moment longer, then dropped them slowly and went into his room.

Cheerily, Bobbi skipped off down the hall.

* * *

**More to come soon. Be warned, it might get a little dirty *tehehe***

* * *


	2. 5 Days of PMSmas

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own any songs mentioned. I do not own '123 Ways to Annoy Voldemort' from which I got my original idea for this story. May credit be given where credit is do. Also credit to the following for their ideas: Know-it-all-bookworm, Linda Lupos, & Lennon Drop. _

**A/N: Please enjoy. Don't let it depress you.**

* * *

_A few days later… _It was morning again, but Bobbi wasn't at the table. The room was filling up and still no sign of her.

"I don't understand," Gregory worried, "Where could see be?"

"Don't get your knickers in a bundle. She'll be here. It's bright out, so she can't leave," Draco assured. He was becoming quite agitated at his friend's new obsession with his cousin. More time with her meant less time with him. It wouldn't have bothered him so if it had just been Goyle. But everyone seemed to be levitating towards her, and soon she would be more popular than him. "I still can't figure out what you see in her."

"She's gorgeous!" Phil exclaimed, "Anyone with eyes can see that."

"She's more than that," Gregory blurted, then covered it with, "She's a female. There's not many of those around here anymore."

"Right," Crabbe agreed dismissively. Just then there was a commotion at the head of the room.

"All rise," drawled a loud voice. Everyone obeyed. As they rose, the boys saw Bobbi at the door announcing Voldemort's entrance. "Now I present to you," she paused to drum on a nearby table, "your master, the Dark Lord Voldemort!" She made a terrible impression of a trumpet as he entered. Voldemort swatted at her. She skipped quickly through the Dining Hall and stopped at her table.

"You're rather chipper despite it being morning," Phil commented.

"I just ate," she giggled.

Phil was about to ask her to explain, but Crabbe shushed him, saying that he didn't want to know.

"This afternoon I am hosting entertainment in the Lounge. Come by. It's gonna be a blast!" Bobbi informed them enthusiastically.

That afternoon in the Lounge, everyone was seated, waiting for the show to begin. At last, the curtains were drawn, revealing a large puppeteer's box. A deep voice announced, "The Lounge presents a special puppet show, done by the Bestest Death Eater Ever for All My Special Little Death Eater Friends, entitled 'It's Okay To Feel Sad.' I hope you enjoy the show."

The smaller curtains on the puppet stage were drawn slowly by hand. Bobbi put extra care into making sure everyone saw her hands. Two hand puppets closely resembling Voldemort and Harry Potter jumped into the middle of the smaller stage.

"You'll never get away with this Scary-White-Man!" Harry-puppet squeaked, flailing his arms.

"I already have Pubescent-Confused-Teenage-Boy!" Voldemort-puppet squeaked louder, nodding his entire body.

"My boyfriend will tell everyone of your existence!" Harry-puppet squeaked.

"You mean him?" Voldemort-puppet squeaked, disappearing momentarily, then returning with a brownish-red haired body. He pointed his wand at it and yelled, "Abra Kadabra!" He flipped the body over and this side was green. Then he tossed the body into the audience.

"No Cedric! Not my lover! Not my bed partner!" Harry-puppet squealed in anguish. "For that you will pay!" Harry-puppet disappeared and reappeared with an over-stuffed mouse. Then he pulled out scissors and cut its limbs off. "Ha! I have dismembered your boyfriend!"

"No! Wait, I don't have a boyfriend."

"I know, because you're so ugly, no one could ever love you!"

Voldemort-puppet slapped him across the face. "You can't speak to your father like that." Pause. "Because he's dead!"

"I hate you!"

Then suddenly, they both had wands and were hitting each other with them. In the end, Harry-puppet won. "Ha ha, I win! Now I will leave by riding away on this trophy." They both disappeared. The curtains were drawn as a sign flew out that announced "The End."

Some of the audience clapped, most chuckled nervously, but everyone was afraid of what Lord Voldemort would say if he found out. Fortunately, Voldemort had not shown up. He had neither the time nor the patience for such frivolous affairs. Bobbi walked from behind the stand and bowed. "It's my birthday in three weeks," she informed them, "so make sure you think up something particularly nasty to embarrass me with."

The morning of Bobbi's birthday, Gregory was set to distract her. Knock knock knock. "Who is it?" Bobbi called.

"It's me, Gregory."

"Come on in. I'm just getting dressed."

Excitedly, Gregory burst through the door. Bobbi laughed as she reached for her shirt. "Don't act like you've never seen a girl in her underwear before," she said as she pulled her shirt swiftly over her head. She smoothed her clothes and reached for the hair brush. As she brushed her hair in the mirror, she asked, "So what task have they sent with you to keep me occupied while they're preparing my party?"

"They want me to have sex with you," he answered immediately.

"Sure they do. And I bet they want me to strip slowly for you, too. Not a chance, Gregory. I told you already why we can't. It'll just be harder for you when I move on."

"You don't have to move on," Gregory proposed, "We can stay together."

Bobbi put down the brush and turned towards him. She took his face in her hands. "Crabbe's right, Gregory. I'm one of those girls who's nothing but trouble. Before you know it I'll be gone, off to the next one. Take both of our advice and don't pursue me. 'Sides, you don't want to commit to anything this early in your life. Trust me." Then less seriously, she added, "I will give you this, though," and she kissed him full on the lips, just once. She pulled away slowly and backed up. She knew he wanted more, but that's all she gave him. She sat down on her bed, "So how long do I have to wait till they're ready?"

He stared blankly at her, then shook his head, "Huh?"

"How long?" she repeated patiently.

"Oh. Um, I think they'll send someone when they're ready." As if on cue, someone knocked on the door.

"Don't come in, we're naked!" Bobbi cried. Immediately, the door burst open, revealing a wide-eyed Draco. Bobbi roared with laughter. "I can't believe you fell for that!"

Draco growled at his gullibility. "It's time," he said simply.

The three teens walked together down the hall and into the empty Lounge. Then suddenly, everyone appeared from under an invisibility tarp. "Surprise!" they shouted cheerily.

"Oh, a surprise party!" Bobbi cried in fake surprise, "Thanks, you guys!"

The party took off with an enthusiastic spin. It had been a long time since there had been a party in the Lair, and everyone took advantage of this chance to have fun. They had music and dancing and food. They even had a cake. When Bobbi blew out the candles, sparks erupted from the wicks and formed themselves into dancing dragons and such. After half an hour of solid partying, the music stopped and everyone settled down to watch the puppet show. A sign flew out of the curtains announcing "Act 1: The Past." The show began with Bobbi-puppet dancing alone. Then in a chipmunk voice, she said, "It's my first day as a Death Eater! I can't wait to kill someone!"

Another puppet appeared, and immediately Bobbi-puppet killed it with a wave of her hand.

Voldemort-puppet appeared. "What did you do that for?" he squeaked.

"I thought I was s'posta. Being American, this is how I show I am tough and ready for action." Bobbi-puppet answered in a cheerful chirp.

"Well, you've just killed our most advanced wizard. You're hired!"

The show proceeded with Bobbi-puppet tearing heads and limbs off of other puppets, then singing high-pitched and way off key after each victory.

The next act was entitled "The Present." Bobbi-puppet appeared in the center of a line of puppets. Nodding her body, Bobbi-puppet squeaked, "Seven boys and none of them suspect a thing." Another puppet was added to the shorter end. "Oh, make that eight."

Bobbi laughed with the crowd. She was fairly enjoying the show even though they were roasting her, because frankly it was true.

"It's getting kinda crowded," Bobbi-puppet squeaked, "I think I'll remove some." She then proceeded to bite the necks of several and cast them aside.

The third and final act was entitled "The Future." Bobbi-puppet reappeared sitting on a throne, wearing a queen's crown. "It sure did take a lot of work to take over the world, but my powers of seduction worked well to my advantage. And best of all, I can finally be with the love of my life," she squeaked, "Here he comes now."

There was a suspenseful drum roll, then finally a white puppet popped on stage. It was Harry Potter!

All the audience gasped dramatically.

"Oh good, Harry, you're here. Could you go get my husband and bring him to me?"

"Thank god," the real Bobbi coughed, "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

The crowd laughed at her comment.

"Ah, here's my real husband," Bobbi-puppet squeaked, "Announcing my husband, the _second_," she put great emphasis on the word, "in command, Lord Voldemort."

Voldemort-puppet jumped on stage. "Hello, honey! How's the world doing?" he squeaked cheerily.

"I finally got China back in place after you so carelessly debased it. Next time I tell you to leave it alone, leave it alone!"

"Yes, dear," he squeaked defeated.

The show was over. The three puppeteers, Lucious, Crabbe Jr., and Bellatrix, took their bow, then rejoined the rest of the partiers.

Bobbi skipped gaily up to them, giggling. "You guys were great! Who thought up the ending?"

"We're not allowed to say," Lucious informed her, then confidentially whispered in her ear, "Snape."

Bobbi chuckled in surprise, "I didn't know he had it in him."

"Don't tell," Lucious commanded.

Later on in the party, they decided to open gifts. "I didn't mean for ya'll to get me anything," Bobbi gasped as she beheld the mountain of wrapped boxes. "I just thought we should all have fun."

"Open them! Open them!" the crowd chanted.

"I don't trust you guys. What if when I open them, a tiny monster comes out and eats my face." But the crowd kept insisting, so she sat down and pulled out a present. "It says 'From Phil,' so if it's a prank, Phil's gonna get it." She smiled brightly as she tore open the package. "A new tie-dye t-shirt! Thanks, Phil." She continued to open presents. At the end of the pile, she had only received three pranks/embarrassing gifts: over-sized granny-panties, condoms, and a dating guide on how to get girls. Nothing exploded in her face.

After the party when Bobbi, Phil, and Gregory were left relaying the presents to her room, Lord Voldemort decided to drop by. He walked in slowly, hands behind his back. As he approached them, Bobbi let off a party popper in his face,

"Bobbi!" he growled.

"Oh, it's my birthday. Let me have a little fun," she begged.

Voldemort sighed, then quickly handed her a shiny-red box. "Happy birthday," he mumbled, then turned to leave. But as he did, Phil reappeared in the doorway. Upon seeing Voldemort standing next to Bobbi, he exploded into drunken laughter, swaying and stumbling until he landed hard on the floor.

"What's wrong with him?" Voldemort asked, having been absent during the puppet show.

"Oh, he's just drunk," Bobbi explained quickly.

"China!" Phil squealed, still cackling madly on the floor.

"He'll have a hang-over in the morning," Bobbi tsked like a mother. She turned her attention back to the present, opening it before Voldemort had time to bolt. She squealed with delight as she uncovered it, "A journal! I wanted one so badly!"

"It never runs out of pages and still remains this size," he informed her.

"Thanks so much! I love it!" Out of gratitude, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.

Gregory's jaw dropped. Phil, who was just beginning to regain control, fell back to the floor in an even more violent fit of cackling.

Shocked and slightly embarrassed, Voldemort stammered, "That's quite enough, Bobbi. Get off."

Bobbi jerked back, removing her arms from his torso and gazing up into his face with a mortally offended pout. Her bottom lip quivered as her eyes teared up. "I'm sorry," she whimpered.

"Don't cry!" Voldemort pleaded, "I didn't mean-" but he was cut off by her giggling.

"I was just kidding," Bobbi smirked, "I wasn't gonna cry. Anyway, thanks for the gift." She turned back to Gregory, who was still slack-jawed, and shutting his mouth for him, pulled him back to the abnormally large stack of presents, saying, "Let's get the rest of these to my room."

* * *

As the weeks progressed, Bobbi seemed to accumulate more and more followers, friends, and plans of annoyance. And when it was that time of the month again, things got much worse.

Day 1 of "That Time of the Month":

Voldemort woke up at 8 am, got dressed and went down to the Dining Hall for breakfast, just as he did every morning. However, when he entered this morning, a loud chorus of laughter welcomed him. He ignored it at first. Why should he care? It couldn't possibly be him at whom they were laughing. Who would dare laugh at the Dark Lord?

When he sat down, however, Wormtail turned an alarmed look on him. In a slow, tripping voice, he pointed out, "Um, my Lord. There s-s-seems to be s-s-something on your face."

"What do you mean 'something on my face'?" he asked, annoyed and confused.

"Wellll, I th-th-think s-s-someone must have, um, played a, um, prank, or s-s-something-"

"Out with it, Wormtail!" he barked, "What's on my face?"

"S-s-scar," he stuttered, sliding his finger down his own forehead.

Voldemort raised a brow quizzically. Lucious, who was sitting next to him, handed him a mirror. Voldemort snatched the mirror and glared at his face. Right in the middle of his forehead, in magic-marker, was a thick, noticeable lightning bolt. The look on his face was so amusing, Lucious, who had been trying to conceal his humored smile by eating, choked on his food and had to flee the room, coughing up eggs the whole way out the door.

Voldemort looked up from the mirror at the table where his personal demon sat. She waved at him with her fingers, an innocent gesture that was a dead giveaway. But of course she wanted him to know. She took pride in her evil little tricks. And he knew he couldn't do anything about it.

To make matters worse, she smiled at him, stood, and sauntered casually up to him. She leaned across the table arrogantly, and in a demeaning fashion, ran her finger down his mock scar. "My sir, you look particularly menacing today. Wannabe Potter, eh? I always thought you liked being yourself. Or maybe it's Opposite Day. I should probably go shave my head and cut off my nose."

He scowled at her, "So are you my opposite, then?"

She giggled, "Yes, of course. I'm surely not Michael Jackson's opposite. We have the same preference, except I'm not quite as picky." Then she looked down at his fingernails and giggled, "I suppose you don't mind the polish, then."

He furrowed his brow, confused. "What polish?"

She giggled again, pointing down at his hand. He followed her finger, and found that his fingernails were all painted in alternating pink/silver. She held out her own hand, displaying her matching fingernail polish. "The sad part is that I had enough time to paint my own fingernails after I painted yours while I was sitting on your bed. You sleep too heavy. How do you expect to rule the world if you don't wake up to the smallest noises? Any old assassin could come in and kill you, and you wouldn't notice till the next morning when you woke up dead."

He scowled at her harder. This just made her giggle more. "Clearly you haven't seen your toes yet."

"What did you do to my toes?" he asked, dreading the answer.

She giggled again, "They look like mine." She stuck her bare foot on the table, and Voldemort realized she wasn't wearing shoes or socks. However, he realized this at the same time he realized that her toenails were painted red and gold. Apparently, so were his.

"Bobbi!" he shouted, jumping up from his seat and sticking his own foot on the table. He tore off his sock and shoe. Under them, just as she had promised, his toenails were painted matching red and gold.

He gaped at them in horror. Excitedly, Bobbi asked, "Didn't I do such a good job? I call dibs on doing your makeup for the final battle. When that cute little Colin boy takes your picture, your eyes and lips will just pop. Cherry lip gloss should do the trick. No? At least remember this the next time you want your nails painted. Here, have a business card," she handed him a pink, lemon-scented card with directions to her room printed on them in purple lettering. She leaned further across the table and whispered, "Come anytime. I stay up late."

He snapped his head up to look at her, his eyes flaming with rage. He growled at her threateningly. She hissed back at him, raising and lowering her eyebrows suggestively. Then she giggled, launched herself up over the table and Voldemort's head, did a flip in the air not humanly possible, and landed with little more than a dull thud on the balls of her feet. Voldemort gaped at her, slack jawed in wonder and slight admiration. She looked back at him, giggled, and declared, "Yoga makes me flexible enough not to break my spine every time I do that. You should try it sometime. It could cure you of your wicked ways." Then before he could do anything, she skipped out the door and was gone.

Voldemort took off after her, more to get out of the room than to get her back. But as long as he was leaving, he might as well follow her. But when he got into the hallway, he couldn't find her. So instead he returned to his own room. Once there, he tried to remove the polish and marker, but to no avail. Agitated, he took out the business card she had given him and followed the directions to her bedroom. He stopped at her closed door, debating whether he should knock or just barge in. It wasn't like him to knock, but what if she was naked?

As he was debating this, a smooth voice from inside called, "Come in, sexy."

Voldemort grimaced in disgust. He pushed open the door where a smiling Bobbi sat waiting for him. "Are you psychic or just annoying?" he asked.

"Both," she answered positively. She grinned up at him from her seat on the bed. She patted the spot next to her. " We can sit or we can lay - whichever you prefer."

He snorted. "I'm only here to get this removed," he indicated his forehead and fingers.

Immediately, she turned a serious face on him. In a thick mob-boss accent, she said, "You come to me in your time of need-"

"Just remove it!" he snapped.

"Fine!" she whined, "Gosh, you're so bossy! But I guess you are the boss." She stood from her seat and waved her wand over his head. Immediately, all the decorations she had put on him disappeared. She stepped back, "Now you are free to live your life as a normal boy."

"Do it again and I'll kill you," he threatened.

"Oh will you? How far can I push you before you kill me, Voldy?"

"Try and see," he offered her in a growl.

She stepped back like she was going to back off. But as he opened the door to leave, she jumped on his back, knocking him forward into the hall. Just as this happened, a large group of Death Eaters walked past the room. They stopped to watch the scene.

"Come back later," Bobbi called over Voldemort's shoulder at the crowd, "We're kind of busy."

"Get off of me!" Voldemort yelled at her, flailing his arms uselessly.

"Oh, you're just sore cause you can't hold down a girl. Literally."

Voldemort swung his arms behind his back and tried to pull her off.

"Ooh," Bobbi giggled, "Careful what you touch."

Voldemort immediately let go of her. Frustrated, he tried to swing her off of his back, but lost his balance and fell on top of her. "If you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was ask," she laughed under him. She let go and let him roll off of her. She stood up quickly before he could. Then she offered him her hand. He ignored it and stood up himself, pulling out his wand as he did so. But she already had hers drawn. "You can't catch me off-guard," she told him with a smirk. But she lowered her wand and laughed. "Well this was fun. We should do this again sometime." Then she hurried down the hall, gone before anyone knew it.

Day 2 of "That Time of the Month":

That afternoon, Voldemort called a Death Eater meeting to discuss some of his plans for world domination. About halfway through, all the lights suddenly went off in the room. Then a single spotlight was directed at the entrance door. A robed figure entered, face concealed by its black cape. It took a few steps, then cast off its dark cape swiftly. Under the veil was Bobbi, dressed in her Death Eater robe. Except this robe was decorated with glitter and rhinestones, all brightly colored and sparkling. And, to top it all off, the robe was pink. She looked up at the front where Voldemort was glaring at her. She smiled. "Please continue," she said, slowly taking her seat in the back. She sat down beside Gregory, who had been holding her seat for her, and the lights returned to normal.

Voldemort growled under his breath, then continued. But halfway through his speech, Bobbi interrupted again, "Really?" she addressed Voldemort loudly, "I give you so many great ideas, and you ignore them all for the stupidest tactic I have ever heard. I have met chucks of cheese with more cunning plans than yours. I swear, how did you get this far?"

"Silence!" Voldemort yelled, sending a curse at her. She Disapperated before it could reach her, reappearing on the stage next to him.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Temper, temper. I'm going to have to take away a gold star for that." She pulled out a note board with names on it. Adjacent to his name, there were two gold stars. Shaking her head, she pulled off one. "You will get this back when you can learn to control your anger."

Angrily, he snatched the board from her hands and snapped it in half. Then he handed it back to her with a smug smirk on his face. Bobbi shook her hand, pulling off the last star. "No stars for you, then. You have timeout. Go put your nose in the corner. Oh wait. My mistake. You can't."

He slapped his hand to his face in annoyance. Bobbi put her hand on his shoulder, which was well over her head. In a condescending tone, she said, "Listen, Champ, I can't help you improve if you don't try. You'll never get what you want if you're so grouchy all the time. You gotta lighten up."

"Bobbi," he growled in a warning tone.

"Alright, Tiger. Listen to your Coach here. I'm gonna help you learn to mellow out. Let's start with a soothing chorus of Kumbayah." With that, she whipped out a banjo that hadn't been there before and started playing and singing. "Come on, everybody sing!"

In an agitated rage, Voldemort tore the banjo out of her hand and smashed it against the stage. She gave him a disappointed look like a parent gives a child and said, "This is not how we get our way, Tommy. You have to learn to share. If you want to borrow something, say 'Please' and 'Thank you'."

Furious at his foiled attempts, he lashed out his wand and pointed it directly at her. Instead of being scared, she laughed at him. "Put that away before you hurt yourself." But she pulled out her own wand anyway. She had an amused smile on her face. "Wanna go, white boy?"

Voldemort laughed derisively at her. "Do you think you can take me?" With one swift flick of his wand, the entire frontal section of people crumpled to the floor. He smirked at her smugly.

But even still, she giggled at him, "Awwwww, lookit. Voldie's got a twiggle!"

Voldemort scowled at her, and yelled indignantly, "Do you mock me, woman?!?"

"Oh, no," she replied in a sarcastic tone, "I would never mock the Dark Bore. I mean, a man who can be so easily destroyed by a baby should never be trifled with."

"Child, I am warning you," he growled dangerously.

"I know that. I can hear you. Gosh, how stupid do you think I am?" Before he could answer, she smiled and lowered her wand. "But you're right. I shouldn't egg you on." Then she fled the stage, leaving him baffled and annoyed.

Day 3 of "That Time of the Month":

Another Death Eater revel was called the next night to get the troops ready for an abnormally large fight that would take place briefly. Being the case, all the assembled Death Eaters were wearing their masks and robes. This considered, Voldemort could not tell who was who. So when one masked Death Eater began blowing kisses at him, he could only assume that it was Bobbi. That is, until Bobbi appeared on stage behind him while the masked Death Eater was still blowing kisses at him.

When Bobbi came up behind him, she curtsied politely and looked out into the crowd. Bewildered, he turned to her and asked, "But who's blowing kisses at me?"

Bobbi raised an eyebrow at his question, "I was under the impression that you didn't like me that way. But if you're going to complain when I stop-"

"No! I mean who's that out there blowing kisses at me now?" He pointed at the afore mentioned Death Eater.

Bobbi glanced over at the suspect, furrowing her brows. With a flick of her hand, the accused party's mask flew off, revealing Narcissa Malfoy. Bobbi laughed. "Figures."

"What do you mean?" Voldemort asked.

"Their whole family is crazy for you. I overheard Lucious talking the other day. He wants to have a threesome with you and Wormtail. But even worse than that, Bellatrix wants to have a threesome with you and Dumbledore. How sick is that? You know what I think you should do? I think you should sacrifice Draco to the cause just to mess with them."

"Aren't you related to them? Wouldn't that mean it applies to you also?"

"You already know how I feel for you," she nudged him insinuatingly.

He rolled his eyes in disgust. "You can't be serious."

"No. Sirius is a man's name, and I am most certainly not a man. If I were, you would be gay."

"How would that make me gay? I don't like you."

"You only say that, but deep down inside, you know it's not true."

He balled his hands into tight fists. "Chill out, Voldy, I was just kidding. Shesh, can't you take a joke?" Bobbi amended.

"Dark Lords don't joke," he explained through his teeth.

"Stop repressing your anger, Voldy-kins. It's really not good for you. You need to vent and let it all out. And you know you can talk to me."

"Shut up," he commanded in a harsh whisper.

"All you need is a hug," Bobbi continued, advancing toward him with her arms spread.

Voldemort turned sharply and caught her wrists with his hands. She continued to try to hug him, but he restrained her. She gave up and dropped her arms. But this would not be the end. "You can't stop the love, Voldy," she promised.

Later during the fight, Bobbi Imperio'd a group of Death Eaters to cheer. "Give me a 'V'! Give me an 'O'! Give me a 'L'!!…" Voldemort was informed of this after the fight by Bobbi herself when she visited his bedroom.

Knock knock knock. "Go away, Bobbi. I'm in no mood to talk to you."

"Sorry, Master," came Wormtail's voice.

"Oh, Wormtail. It's you. Come in."

But Bobbi appeared instead. Voldemort growled, "I told you not to come in."

"I'm sorry, I don't listen well," she smiled.

"What do you want?" Voldemort grumbled.

Day 4 of "That Time of the Month":

At noon time, Wormtail delivered a package to the Dark Lord's room. When Voldemort opened it, he found a pair of white boxers with little red hearts on them. Voldemort grimaced at yet another of Bobbi's stupid jokes. He tossed them into the fire and left. As it was, he had an appointment with the Inner Circle.

As he was leaving his room, he noticed a lump against the wall. Curiously he turned, and gaped in horror at what he saw. It was a bloody, mutilated, human arm. Beside it was a card. Hesitantly, he picked it up. It was slightly splattered with blood and read, "From Wormtail, with love." He dropped the card immediately and wipe his hand on his robe vigorously. He turned to leave, but stopped when he realized that Bobbi was heading his way. He turned a slightly sour face on her. She smiled pleasantly as always.

As she approached him, she informed him cheerfully, "I was sent to make sure you got to class on time." Then she looked down at the arm, her brow furrowing curiously. She looked up at him and asked, "Are you going to eat that?"

He gaped at her in horror. "No! Why would I eat that?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Mamma said it's polite to ask before taking something." She then bent down, picked it up, brought it to her mouth, and tore a huge chunk out of it with her teeth. She chewed it noisily, Voldemort's eyes glued to her mouth in horrific disgust. She swallowed it, licked her lips, and smiled at him. "You want some?" she offered, pushing the arm toward him.

He jumped back in revulsion. "How can you eat that? What's wrong with you?"

She laughed loudly at him, tears leaking from her eyes. Through her laughter, she informed him, "Voldy, it's not a real arm. This is a candy arm. Don't you ever eat candy? Go on, take a bite. It's not half bad."

Even still, Voldemort did not try it. But he did erect himself and follow Bobbi to the meeting room of the Inner Circle. As she continued to gnaw on her arm, he asked, "Why are _you_ taking me to the meeting? Since when do you know about these things?"

"I'm a female," she answered dismissively, "You can't keep much from me."

They continued the rest of the walk in silence. When they entered the room, Voldemort took his seat at the head of the meeting table. Bobbi also took a seat; hers was near the middle. Voldemort glared at her, "Since when are you a member of the Inner Circle?"

"Since I was voted worthy of such. And also because I'm your new apprentice, in accordance with prophesy," she answered with a serious composure.

"Bobbi, I warned you," Snape reminded.

Bobbi sighed, "You're right, I'm sorry. So I'm not your apprentice."

"Bobbi is my apprentice," Snape informed him, "She also has close relations with many of those of whom we should be skeptical."

"She could be our informant, keep us updated on possible conspiracies within the Lair, Master," another member suggested courageously.

"I'm also a qualified psychologist," Bobbi added truthfully.

"I don't need a psychologist," Voldemort snapped defensively.

"Of course not. I wasn't suggesting that," Bobbi amended smoothly, "I meant I could be a psychologist for the other Death Eaters. Sometimes people support a cause better when they feel like they are appreciated and listened to. I could offer that. I could be the person they talk to. And it was also be easier for me to spy on them if they felt like they could trust me, seeing as most everyone trusts their psychologist."

Voldemort took a moment to mull over that argument. She had a point. She would be the perfect spy. Who wouldn't trust her? But letting her be a part of the Inner Circle would mean having to spend more time with her. But she would be an excellent addition. Should he deny her a needed position just because he doesn't like her? "Yes, that would be an excellent idea," he agreed, "We do need a good spy." What? Why did he say that? Sure it was true, but why would he give in to them? She was a nuisance, no matter how extraordinarily talented and astonishingly beautiful she was. Oh well. Too late to take it back now.

Later that day, yet another Death Eater meeting was called. As Voldemort stood on the stage, he couldn't help but notice Bobbi when she walked into the room wearing the funkiest muggle X-ray glasses the world had ever seen. She leaned up against the wall and leered at him suggestively, keeping her 'specks' trained on him. He tried ignoring her, but she wouldn't have that. While he was still speaking, she called loudly to him, "My Lord, I think you look smashing in the rocket ship underwear." However, the voice that came out of her mouth was not the musical delight in which she normally spoke. Before she had come to attend the meeting, she had inhaled about a quart of helium. This is the voice in which she addressed him.

The entire room burst into laughter. They were immediately quieted by Voldemort's enraged yelling. Bobbi covered her ears until he stopped to take a breath. Then she responded in the same loud, screwy voice, "Are you PMSing?"

From that day on, Bobbi was banished from attending Death Eater meetings. Not that she obeyed.

Day 5 of "That Time of the Month":

The next morning at breakfast, Bobbi came into the room with a bundle of stuff in her hands. She dumped the armload on the table in front of Voldemort.

"What's all this for?" he inquired irritably. He poked through the junk. It consisted of fudge brownies, a box of Kleenex, maxi pads, and a 'Somewhere in Time' CD.

"Well," she responded in her normal, melodious voice, "I thought that this might help with those pesky little hormones. They always help me."

"I am not PMSing!" he whispered roughly, grouchily. He stood from his seat.

"Listen, honey," Bobbi said in a motherly tone, placing her hand on his shoulder, "When you grow, your body goes through a lot of changes. Listen to Mommy. I'm an adult and I know what I'm talking about."

He jerked out of her grasp, turned and left the room. Bobbi put her hands on her hips and clicked her tongue, a mock-worried expression crossing her brow. Then crossing her arms, she said, "I need to have a talk with that kid."

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know it kinda ends on a loose note, but more is to come soon. Hopefully.**


	3. Obsessive Deals and Christmas Kisses

_Disclaimer: As I'm sure you all know, I do not own any of the following: Harry Potter, the lists on which I base some of the ideas for this story, any song lyrics mentioned._

* * *

Voldemort was walking down the hall discussing matters with Snape when Bobbi jumped out of the Lounge and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him into the room. "Come on, Voldykins! Help me."

"Help you with what?"

"Painting Easter eggs," she said, tugging on his arm ineffectively.

"Easter eggs," Voldemort laughed, retracting his hand. "My dear child, we don't do Easter here."

"Oh please," she pleaded, staring up at him with puppy-dog eyes. "Please, please, please. I never had a real Easter. My father was always too busy and every year I had to paint them by myself. All alone. Please, Master. It could be, like, a father-daughter bonding thing. Please."

"Bobbi, I told you. I don't do social-bonding things."

"Don't look at it like that, then. Think of it more as a business meeting. We could compare domination plans or something. Oh, please, Voldy. I'll do anything you want in return," Bobbi promised broadly.

"Anything?" Voldemort verified, now interested.

"Anything. Except kill myself. I cannot self-terminate."

Voldemort pondered for a moment, then smirked evilly and said, "Deal."

"Yippy!" Bobbi exclaimed delightedly, taking his hand and pulling him into the Lounge. On one of the tables she had already set up a carton of eggs and 2 paint sets. She sat him down in one of the two chairs at the table, then seated herself in the other.

Voldemort sat in silence and painted while Bobbi yakked her head off.

"I wonder if the Easter Bunny visits evil people," she wondered aloud.

"Aren't you a little old for the Easter Bunny?" Voldemort inquired, unable to stop himself.

Bobbi shrugged her shoulders. "He probably wouldn't come anyway. He only presents himself to those who believe. Do you believe?"

"Of course not," he answered truthfully.

She looked up at him curiously, "Well, do you believe in Santa Claus?"

"No."

Bobbi shook her head and clicked her tongue, returning to her painting. "Stop denying your inner child, Voldy. No wonder you're never happy."

When they had finished, Voldemort stood up to leave, but was forced back down by Bobbi. "Where are you going? You said you'd paint Easter eggs with me. We're not finished yet." She summoned 3 more cartons with her wand. Voldemort groaned. Bobbi took one carton for herself and handed another to Voldemort. These cartons were the larger cartons with a dozen-and-a-half eggs in them.

"What's your fav color?" Bobbi asked girlishly.

"Black."

"Green? Okay." She dipped her brush in the green paint and began painting her eggs. After a minute, she tugged on his sleeve. "Look it."

Obediently, Voldemort looked over at her eggs. Each had a letter on it. They read, "TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE"

"Give them a tap with your wand," she instructed.

Once again he obeyed. They rearranged themselves to spell "I AM LORD VOLDEMORT"

Bobbi squealed with delight. "Now watch this." She tapped them 3 times with her wand and they all flipped over, revealing a picture of a snake. "Aren't I talented?"

"Sure," Voldemort smiled slightly.

"Show me yours," she insisted eagerly. She looked at his eggs. They had been randomly splattered with paint. "Wicked," she commented.

After they had finished painting all the eggs, Bobbi said, "Now help me hide them outside."

"What? No," Voldemort refused.

"Oh please, oh please, oh please."

"That wasn't part of the deal, Bobbi."

"I guess you're right. I'll just get the guys to play with me."

"Play? Are you sure you're 18?"

Bobbi looked at him in a peculiar, amused way, like she knew a secret he didn't. She chuckled and replied, "Sometimes I consider myself older." She took the eggs and skipped off to find her friends, leaving Voldemort frustrated and confused.

Later in the day, Voldemort was eating lunch in the Dining Hall when he looked up and noticed Bobbi and her little boyfriends enter the room, laughing and covered in eggs. It was then that Voldemort understood why the eggs they had painted were not hard boiled. He watched as Bobbi, laughing with her friends, looked around the Dining Hall. When she spotted him, she dismissed her friends and skipped towards him alone.

"Hey," she greeted as she approached him, "I can't believe you didn't want to throw eggs at people. It was so much fun. But I guess you adults think that's immature. That's one of the reasons I decided not to be an adult. You can't do anything fun when you're an adult."

"I thought you were going to have Easter with those eggs," Voldemort said.

"Why would we have Easter? It's Christmas time."

Voldemort looked at her in bewilderment. Bobbi giggled in her sweet, ringing way. She patted his head, "See, this is why I stay with you. You are so funny, and you don't even know it." Then she ran off after her friends, laughing in childish innocence.

That night, when Voldemort was meeting alone with Snape, he pondered Bobbi's odd behavior. In the middle of Snape's speech, he blurted out, "What is it about Bobbi that keeps me from ringing her neck?"

Snape replied in his monotone, "Bobbi is a seductress. She makes people want to do her bidding to please her in hopes that she will 'please' them back."

"No, that's not it. There's something else besides her beauty and her bubbly, accepting personality."

"I would say that those are the case for most boys. But for you and me, it's her uniqueness, her secrets. We are very curious people who like to work out and solve puzzles. And with Bobbi, there are many mysteries."

"That must be it. Snape, you seem to know much about Bobbi. Why is that?"

"She trusts me. She also loves to talk, and for awhile I was the only one she would talk to. Even though she is my apprentice, I still learn from her. I learn quite a bit just by listening when she speaks. Her mother died while giving birth to her and her father never remarried, so she grew up as an only child. She told me she spent most of her childhood alone due to her dangerous, paranormal powers. She's been to six different wizard schools. She's always 'been into taking over the world.' She's never truly been in love. That's only a few of the things I know about her life. But she didn't only tell me about herself. She's also taught me quite a few spells. And she told me the trick to using Occlumency in another's mind is to have the person hold your wand while you're blocking his memories."

"Genius! I should have known."

"She can also cast multiple spells at once. She is very talented."

"Bobbi truly is one of a kind," Voldemort concluded.

"Her husband will be a very lucky man," Snape added, "And he won't deserve her one bit."

"You seem rather sore over her," Voldemort noticed, "What happened?"

"As I said, she's a seductress. Of course I'd fancy having something with her, but that just doesn't feel appropriate to me anymore, not since… well, I can't really explain it, Sir. Bobbi is a beautiful, confusing creature and she deserves better than I could offer her."

* * *

A few days later, Voldemort was awoken at 5 am by Bobbi, who was perched on his chest, staring at him as if in awe. "Bobbi!" he roared, sitting up rapidly and knocking her to the floor.

She stood up quickly and jumped in excitement. "Merry Christmas! I brought you your first gift, see," she pointed to the corner where she had placed a fern with a bow around it. Then she Disapperated.

At breakfast, Bobbi was walking around the Dining Hall, giving delicious cookies to everyone. When Voldemort walked in, she offered him some. "I baked them myself," she glowed.

Voldemort looked down at the cookies. They were in the shape of lightning bolts. "You baked scar-shaped cookies for Christmas?" he asked irritably.

Her pleasant smile dropped and was replaced by a whimpering, offended pout, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she whimpered, tears forming in her radiant, fuchsia eyes. She ran away, sobbing, "You don't have to be so mean!"

Several other Death Eaters who had watched the scene glared hatefully at Voldemort, then chased after Bobbi. Voldemort sat down next to Snape, who informed him, "She set that up just to make you feel bad. Another great thing about Bobbi is that she's manipulative."

"I wish she wouldn't use it against me," Voldemort huffed.

"She's just trying to get your attention. That's all she wants."

At lunch, she approached him again, handing him a wrapped box. She smiled and watched as he unwrapped it against his better judgment. He pulled out a pink, hand-made turtleneck with one sleeve far too long and the other far too short. "I knitted it for you myself," she beamed.

"It's… warm," he struggled.

Pleased, she skipped off to tackle Draco.

Before dinner, Bobbi led Voldemort into the Lounge where she Imperio'd a group of Death Eaters to sing him "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" and then made them follow him around until the song was finished. Then right after dinner, she presented him with a pair of fluffy, pink pajamas.

Voldemort smirked at her and confided, "I sleep in the nude."

"What a coincidence," Bobbi giggled, "so does Wormtail. By the way, he has a crush on you. It's totally obvious."

At about 10 o'clock, she handed him a small piece of paper. "What's this?" he asked.

"A coupon to Rick's Barber Shop for a haircut," she giggled sweetly, then Disapperated.

She landed in Gregory's room, where he was sitting on his bed. He looked up and smiled at her. "Hey, Bobbi. Glad you're here. We need to talk." He patted the spot in front of him.

"Sure," she complied, hopping onto his bed. She looked at him attentively.

"Bobbi," he started, "I've been thinking about what you said to me on your birthday, and I think I've figured out why you don't want to be with me."

"Shoot," she prompted.

"There's someone else living here that you want to be with, someone older."

"Alright, I'll admit it. I have deep, sexual feelings for Severus. I'm not ashamed. He's a great guy," Bobbi laughed.

"Bobbi, stop deflecting. I know you have feelings for the Master."

Bobbi's jaw dropped at his assumption. "You think… me and him? Really? You're serious, you think that?"

Gregory nodded, "I know, Bobbi."

Bobbi put her hand to her mouth to keep from busting a gut. She toppled onto the floor, laughing so hard. She banged her fist on the floor and held her stomach with the other hand as she laughed. "Ow! It hurts, it hurts," she cried as she cackled. She eventually calmed herself enough to get back on the bed and exclaim, "That is the stupidest thing you have ever said! I mess with him because it's funny and I get a thrill from living on the edge. But to say that I like him! What a riot!"

"You didn't have to make me feel stupid," Gregory pouted indignantly.

"I'm sorry, Gregory, but you brought that upon yourself." She scooted closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder, "Gregory, listen. The reason I can't be with you is because I'm no good for you. Take me at my word, we're better off just being friends. There might be another guy, but he's got no prayer of a chance, and that's why we can work. I prey on men who have already been shredded and have no hope for happiness. You, Gregory, have a future. Don't throw away your life for a silly little slut who can't act her own age. You will find happiness without me, I swear. Until then," she pulled him closer and kissed him. He responded hungrily, but before he got too caught up in the moment, she broke away. "That was your Christmas present."

"Allow me to give you a Christmas present," he insisted half-playfully, but she pushed him away laughing.

At about midnight, Voldemort heard a knocking at his wall.

"Ickle Voldykins!" the annoyingly familiar voice called.

"What do you want, Bobbi?" he called grouchily.

"I didn't give you your Christmas present."

"You gave me six already," he reminded.

"Those were just jokes. I haven't given you your real present yet."

"Fine," he surrendered, "But you better not be naked."

"_You_ better not be naked," she countered. Bobbi appeared with a pop.

Voldemort held out his hand expectantly.

"Business first," Bobbi said, handing him a few sheets of parchment, "Here are your edited plans to take over the world."

He took them and flipped through them, "You corrected my spelling."

"Ignore that for now. Here is your real present," she handed him a large, golden box with bright red ribbons.

Voldemort opened it hesitantly, Bobbi watching patiently. He removed from it a camera. "Wow. This is actually a good present."

"I knew you would like it," Bobbi gushed delightedly. "Merry Christmas, Lord Voldemort."

* * *

For several weeks afterward, everything went about as it usually did in the Lair. Then one night after a grand victory over an abnormally large group of rebel wizards, Voldemort called for a spectacular celebration. There was dancing and socializing and partying of all sorts. And, of course, there was firewhiskey, because all extremely victorious occasions must include some sort of energetic beverage, and real dark wizards don't drink butterbeer.

Strangely, Voldemort was feeling quite joyful, enough to join in the merriment and socialize frivolously with his petty followers. He even felt good enough to accept a drink from Bobbi.

Handing him a bottle of firewhiskey, she raised her own to his and said, "A toast to victory." She chugged hers dry in a matter of seconds, then ran off to challenge some others to a drinking contest.

After intense partying and drinking, a fight soon aroused between - you guessed it - Bobbi and the Dark Lord. Slightly drunk with pent up rage (and also in part from the couple bottles of firewhiskey he'd had earlier), Voldemort challenged Bobbi to a duel. Being slightly drunk herself, Bobbi accepted. Finally, after so many weeks of trying to coax her into a duel, he realized that all he had to do was get her drunk.

"Alrighty, Voldy. Where do you wanna do this?" she asked, partially slurring her words. She still had a half full bottle in one hand, swinging it about carelessly. Her other hand held her wand steadily pointed at him.

"To the dungeon!" he cried, "I mean, the dueling chambers." They ran, stumbling, to the dueling chambers, followed by a group of rowdy, drunk Death Eaters who carried on loudly about how great this was going to be. Not that anyone would remember it in the morning.

As soon as the two were in position, the battle began. This was the duel everyone had been waiting for. The most powerful duelist of the Death Eaters against the Master himself. How epic this would be. And it was. Countless times each of the duelists were thrown down and around by the spells, but neither would give in, so stubborn were they both.

About ten minutes in, at least 2/3 of the spectators were asleep. It's not that the duel was boring; it's just that so much partying tends to make one drowsy.

"Tell ya what, Voldy," Bobbi proposed with a silly half-smile on her face, "Why don't we make a wager on the outcome of this duel? If I win, you give me something, and if you win, I give you something."

Voldemort barely pondered the idea before he agreed, "Deal. If I win, you must give me utter respect. You must do what I say, when I say, and make no cracks about it."

A smirk began to form on Bobbi's lips, "Okay. But if I win, you must give me a kiss, lips to lips, that lasts longer than 10 seconds. Do we have an agreement?"

Voldemort laughed derisively, less drunk than he before seemed. "Deal."

Bobbi smirked evilly. She righted herself from her faux-drunken slouch and explained, "There is no getting out of it now."

Voldemort cackled, righting himself also. "I knew you weren't really drunk. Nor am I. I've just been taking it easy on you. Now you will pay for all that you've done to me."

Bobbi's smirked grew even more sinister. She swished her hair out of her eyes with an irresistibly sexy shake of her head. "Let the real duel begin."

And now the duel was the most epic display of power ever exhibited in a wizard duel. Unfortunately, none of the spectators were still awake, so the specifics of the battle were lost to the memories of the fighters. But in the end, after intense (and probably brutal) combat, one did fail. And that one was not Bobbi.

She ended the duel with the most powerful string of immobilizing curses ever put together. She walked slowly over to his limp, exhausted body and lowered herself smugly to his level. She poked her wand into his throat, "Abra Kadabra, and you're dead."

She snickered, putting away her wand. She reached over and took his out of his hand, sticking it in her robes beside her own wand. "You know, there is so much I could do to you right now, and you'd be defenseless against it." She brought her lips to his cheek and brushed them arrogantly across his skin. His eyes flinched, but no other muscle moved to stop her. She snickered satirically, "See what I mean. I could do so many things to you right now - I could even do this -" she trailed one hand slowly down his chest and caressed his face with the other, "and you couldn't do a thing about it. But," she pulled herself away from him, "that's not my style. I like my men to struggle, and since you're completely helpless - so much that you can't even move your head to avoid me - torturing you just isn't as fun as when you fight back. Not that you ever had a chance. No one has a chance. I'm just too powerful."

She snickered derisively at him again, stroking his forehead lightly, "You were so cute, thinking you could beat me. How adorable."

He pulled his face just enough to form a halfway decent scowl. Bobbi chuckled at him, "Don't be mad. It ruins your devastatingly good looks. But don't worry," she brought her lips to his ear, touching her cheek to his, and whispered, "I still want that kiss. Just not tonight."

In an attempt to exact revenge, Voldemort tried to spit on her face. But all he accomplished was blowing lightly into her ear.

Bobbi giggled and pulled away. "Foreplay will get you nowhere," she mocked. "You know, you really should be careful of what you do to people, because your actions could be misconstrued, and that could prove dangerous, especially when you can't defend yourself."

She stood, turned to leave, then changed her mind and turned back. "I suppose I shouldn't just leave you here." She added with a mischievous grin, "To the bedchambers."

She picked him up easily and carried him through the rooms, the halls, and finally the wall. She set him down carefully on his bed and began undressing his feet. When he gave her a look of alarm, she chuckled and said, "Don't worry: this is all I'm taking off of you." Then she slipped him delicately under the covers. Next, she Accio'd a story book in and began reading "The Ugly Duckling." When she had finished, she looked over to see him glaring at her. She smiled, please, and skipped off to her own room, turning off the lights behind her.

* * *

In the morning, nearly everyone was hung-over. Voldemort walked stiffly into the Dining Hall, sore all over. Snape walked into the room, groaned, and walked out, "I'll go fix the Pepper Up Potion."

Bobbi stopped him on his way out, "I'll bring you something to eat." He nodded. She continued into the room, perhaps the only person smiling. Cheerily, she skipped up to Voldemort, who was slumped over in his chair. "Does Tommy want his ickle bottle?"

Voldemort groaned. He observed her with a glowering face, "Are you not even sore from last night?" **A/N: Ooh! Last night…**

"I took a nice, hot bath and I feel great. I had also just filled up on blood from the fight yesterday. Of course, if we get into another fight tonight, I might have to fill up again soon. Too much magic in concentrated, fighting form makes me weak. Too bad you didn't fight me before I just filled up. You probably would've had a better chance of winning. But oh well."

A look of horror crossed his face, "You aren't gonna tell, are you?"

Bobbi smiled maliciously, "I'll keep my mouth shut, but it'll cost ya."

Voldemort sighed, "What do you want? Another kiss, I suppose."

"Oh no, not at all. I only need one of those from you. But I understand you got around quite a bit when you were younger. Quite a lady's man, weren't you?"

His eyes widened in terror, "Bobbi, what are you asking?"

Her evil smile broadened, "It's just one little thing. It's really no big deal. I've done it hundreds of times. Of course, back then I was getting paid for it. And I was good."

"You were a-"

"A masseuse, yes."

A wind of relief blew the terror off of Voldemort's face. "So you want a massage?" he asked.

"A full body massage. And it's only a deal if I am satisfied by it."

Voldemort groaned. "Fine. Deal."

Bobbi clapped her hands together, pleased. Then she skipped off toward her usual table. She sat down next to Gregory and planted a big kiss on his forehead.

He smiled at her, "What was that for?"

"For passing out last night."

Gregory raised an eyebrow quizzically, then shrugged it off.

Bobbi ate quickly, then put together a hardy plateful of food and escaped the room. She carried the meal gleefully to Snape's potion chamber where he was busy brewing a large cauldron of Pepper Up. She sat his plate down on an empty writing desk. Then she sauntered casually up to him. "Would you like any help, 'master'?"

"Yes, my apprentice. Do you know the ingredients for the Pepper Up potion?"

"Of course. I majored in potions."

Snape smiled a small-but-rare smile, "Of course you did. Make another cauldron of it for me."

"Snape, I don't think you should drink the entire cauldron," she joked, "I mean really, there are better was of dealing with your problems." Then she smiled and got to work.

"So," she began after a while of fixing up the potion, "The plan is going accordingly so far. I have the set-up, but I've yet to execute it."

"I'm sure you will tell me all about it once you've initiated it," he said.

"Of course. But you have to tell me what you find out as well. I know he will come to you and tell you all about it. That's what they do. They always do that."

"What if you get a negative result?"

"I won't let it get to me. This is just an experiment. I'm a scientist. I have to know my boundaries and face the facts."

Snape chuckled, "You are such a strange child. How do you possibly conceive all the things you do?"

"I'm talented," she smiled with a flip of her hair.

"I still don't understand why you are so keen on testing this. I thought you said you were taking a break from your old habits."

"I did and I am," she replied.

"Then what do you call this? Is this not what you always do?"

"It kind of is similar," she answered unsurely, "But I'm not gonna do what I always do. I'm trying a different approach to this. And my intentions are a little purer this time. I'm not just acting like usual. I'm gonna try to use my real feelings. It's strange; I didn't plan on doing this. I signed up for the Death Eaters because I was bored and this cause seemed interesting. And also because I would be able to show off and practice my dueling skills. But when I got here… I don't know. I guess things just happen. It's not like I meant to… you know. But when the mind thinks, it thinks. You understand what I'm saying, Severus?"

"Yes," he answered with a tint of sorrow entering his voice, "I understand what you're saying. I've been through the same thing. It's odd, though, that it took so long for these things to happen to you. It's almost like your maturity is reverting. How very strange."

"I'm unlike any other, aren't I?" Bobbi asked.

"Quite special, yes. That's exactly why I think you should reconsider this project that you so obsessively are pursuing at the moment. It could be dangerous, to more than just yourself. The consequences might not be too devastating for you, considering what - I mean who - you are. But it could prove terribly inconvenient in the future."

"Severus, you worry far too much. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. As long as no one else finds out about what I'm trying to do, it won't make a difference. There are plenty of other things to occupy my time if the experiment fails."

"I'm not worried about what happens if it fails. I know you can handle that. What I'm worried about is that it succeeds. If you get a positive result, how will you deal with the information? There is so much that could go wrong if we find out -"

"Potion's done," Bobbi interrupted, filling several vials with it.

Snape began bottling the potion. "We'll continue this discussion later."

"Fine. But you aren't going to change my mind. I am quite stubborn. We're gonna need some help delivering these." She snapped her fingers twice and immediately several elves appeared. She loaded their trays full of vials and ordered them to give each hung-over person one. Then she took off in the direction of the Dining Hall. She skipped gleefully up to Voldemort, who was still slouching from all the soreness and his massive headache, and handed him a bottle of the potion.

"I made you some Pepper Up so that you would feel better," she explained politely.

"Hmph," he responded, taking it from her lazily.

She curtsied and left.

"What odd behavior," Voldemort thought to himself. He looked at the potion, "I wonder if she poisoned it." He drank it anyway, too tired to care. He immediately felt stronger, more energized and less sore.

* * *

For the next several days, Bobbi behaved herself entirely. She did not play a single prank, did not make a single joke (at his expense, at least), and obeyed every rule and command Voldemort gave her. She even called him "sir" and "Master" which she never did, and did her job as psychologist/spy perfectly. She informed the Inner Circle of everything she discovered from her "patients" and told them of three conspiracy theories within the walls of the Lair. She was polite and helpful and quiet. And it freaked Voldemort out.

When he met with Snape that week, he confessed how her odd behavior was affecting him. "I can't help but wonder why she's doing this. Is she trying to trick me?"

"Doing what, sir? You mean being nice?"

"Yeah. She never does that. Never. Well, not to me at least."

"She is very… strange," Snape struggled.

"Why is she doing this? The sun's not out anymore. She has no reason to. Or does she? Snape, she is your apprentice. Do you know why she is acting differently?"

"I haven't a clue. It's not like she tells me everything she's thinking."

"Well," Voldemort concluded, pausing for a second, then continuing, "I kinda like it."

* * *

Later that day, when Bobbi and Snape were working in the potions chamber, Snape said to Bobbi, "That's cheating, Bobbi. You can't change your behavior. You're skewing the experiment."

"Screw the rules, I have money!" she exclaimed.

Snape cocked a brow at her.

"Let me try again," she amended, "Screw standards! I'll do what I darn well please."

"It's still cheating," he mumbled.

"You'll get over it," she rolled her eyes.

After a few more days of this good behavior, Bobbi decided it was time to bring up their arrangement.

After an Inner Circle meeting, Bobbi waited until the rest of the members had scattered to approach Voldemort. "So, Master," she began innocently, "There's something I need to talk to you about."

"You want something, don't you?" he interjected as they walked down the hall together, "That's why you've been so well behaved. You've been softening me up. You need money, don't you? I know how you teenagers are."

Bobbi giggled. "You honestly think that is why I've been so respectful this past week? I'm offended that you think so lowly of me. I guess you've forgotten about our duel bets."

He stopped abruptly and looked at her. "What about them?"

"Well, I just thought that you'd appreciate it if I was respectful of you for awhile, seeing as that was the deal if I lost. I figured if anyone remembered that far into the duel, they would think you had won if I upheld that part of the bet, or at least acted like I was."

"Oh," he said, relaxing a bit, "That's decent of you. I wouldn't think you cared so much about my reputation."

"Well, I don't want to fight for someone who looks weak. I've got my own reputation, and I don't need my pansy of a boss to wreck it for me," she joked with an obviously joking smile. Just to make sure he knew she was joking, she added, "Naw, I'm just kidding."

He cracked a smile. Okay, maybe she was a little more funny that he gave her credit for.

They continued to walk together down the hall.

"So how long are you going to be nice to me?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Until it gets boring and no longer serves my purpose."

They sat down at a table together and started eating. They talked pleasantly to each other.

As Voldemort was reaching for his drink, he knocked another over into his lap. He jumped up, startled.

Thinking quickly, Bobbi flicked her wand and the mess instantly disappeared. "Fixed it," she informed him casually.

"Thanks," he said, sitting down. "It's not like you to be that kind to me. Are you sure you aren't sick?"

"Well, I just couldn't let you ruin that wonderful outfit," she joked.

He laughed at her joke briefly.

After dinner, Bobbi followed Voldemort out of the Dining Hall . She followed him to his bedroom wall. There, he turned to her and asked, "Do you want something?" He said it casually, not angrily like how he usually talked to her.

"Yeah, actually. I was wondering when you were going to honor the deal we made during the duel."

His face dropped a little. "Oh. I'd thought you'd forgotten."

She chuckled, "I don't forget so easily."

"When do you want it?"

"Whenever it's convenient. As in, when no one is around to watch."

Voldemort bit his lip. Would she stop being nice after he kissed her? The idea of kissing her alone was… horrifying? Was it really that bad? It was just one kiss. Then they would go back to hating each other. Right? One little kiss couldn't hurt. And the longer he postponed it, the longer he'd be dreading it, and the more she would bug him about it. Better to get it over with now while no one was around.

"You're not gonna tell anyone, right? It'll be our little secret," he clarified.

"Of course. Why would I brag about kissing a man old enough to be my grandfather?"

He sighed, "I guess you're right. But we need a more private place to do this. Someone might see us out here." He took her hand and Apperated them into a room she had never seen before. He turned to her, "So how are we to go about doing this?"

"Just lean down a little and don't move. It'll be over before you know it."

He bent over awkwardly. "I still don't understand why you can't ask for an expensive broom like a normal teenager would."

"I'm not a normal teenager," she explained.

"Indeed, you are quite different."

"Stop talking and this will go faster."

He closed his mouth.

"No, no. Open your lips a little."

"What?!" he exclaimed.

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"That's precisely why I don't trust you."

"If you don't behave, this will take longer. I'm sure you want to get this over with, don't you?"

"Of course," he answered huffily.

"Then do as I say." She took her fingers and delicately shut his eyes. Then she carefully parted his lips, just slightly. She took his face gently in her hands and pressed her lips to his.

It was a very simple kiss; no lip movements and no tongue. And yet it still mangled his mind. So many strange, undesirable thoughts filled his head, and while most were completely insane, he couldn't ignore them. And then, too soon, the kiss was over. He opened his eyes and found Bobbi staring at him three feet away. She had a strange expression on her face, one Voldemort could not interpret.

She half smiled at him, "Now the only thing left for you to give me is a massage."

He did not respond at first. But after a momentary pause, he said, "Oh." Just 'Oh.'

After a short, awkward silence, she looked down at her wrist and said, "I think it's time to go."

"You don't even have a watch," he noted, chuckling.

"Yeah, that's why I'm not sure," she smiled childishly. She glanced around, "How do we get out of here?"

"I'll take you," he offered politely. He took her hand softly and Apperated them back into the hall outside of his bedroom.

"Goodnight, Voldy," she said cheerily, skipping off to her own room and leaving him utterly confused as he watched her go.

* * *

The next day when she met with Snape, Bobbi told him about the kiss: "He didn't move for a moment after I pulled away, like he wanted more. And then when I reminded him of the massage, all he said was 'Oh.'"

"So what do you deduce?" Snape asked in an indifferent tone that completely lied about his thoughts.

"I think it means he likes me," she said with a smirk.

"So a positive result it is," he confirmed. "What are you going to do now?"

"I think I'll keep up my good behavior for awhile, let him ruminate on the kiss. Maybe I'll toy with his emotions a little. I know what you're thinking Snape, and you're right. But old habits are hard to break. Now, remember to tell me everything that he says when he talks to you about it."

Snape chuckled and asked, "How are you so confident that he will come to me?"

Bobbi smiled smugly, "I've done this a hundred times. I know my effect on men. And I know that they can't keep such feelings to themselves."

"I believe you are confusing men with boys," he objected.

"We'll see."

* * *

About a day later, Voldemort met with Snape to discuss some business. After a long talk about serous things, Voldemort brought up another subject. "Snape. You're close to Bobbi, right? I mean, you are her instructor after all. Does she tell you things?" he asked broadly.

"We do talk often, and she tells me a lot. What kind of things specifically?"

"Secrets, perhaps. Maybe her feelings. I don't know. I'm trying to understand the way she thinks. Do you have a strong relationship with her?"

"I suppose. She does tell me quite a bit. She is, after all, a female. She complains a lot, too. She's always going on about how hard it is to be the only teenage girl here and not have anyone to listen to her rant. And not to mention female body issues -"

"Snape! That's not what I'm asking. I mean, does she tell you about how she feels toward certain people in the castle?" Voldemort specified agitatedly.

"Are you asking about which guys she likes?" Snape inquired with hidden bemusement.

"Well of course. We're all guys here. Well, mostly."

"She's a seductress. Why are you trying to keep tabs on her boyfriends? Although I do think she's doing rather well in her attempt to give up that title. I heard from her that she's only kissed one person since she's been here."

"She told you about our kiss?" Voldemort blurted uncontrollably.

Snape looked straight into his eyes and asked with a straight face, "What kiss?"

No use in trying to cover it up now. The cat's out of the bag. Better to justify the event. "She made me kiss her. Wait, she didn't tell you?"

Snape shrugged, "I thought she'd only kissed young Goyle so far. I suppose she forgot to tell me."

"Or maybe she kept her promise not to tell. That's unusual of her."

"So you kissed her?" Snape prompted.

"She kissed me," Voldemort corrected, "We made a bet and I lost, so I had to kiss her. It's not like I wanted to. Not at first. But like you said, she is a seductress. I don't know."

Why was he admitting all this to Snape? Maybe he hoped that Snape could offer him some form of advice, seeing as he himself knew nothing of the ways of the female. Maybe Snape knew. Snape's apprentice was a girl, the girl in question in fact. Maybe he would know what to do about the situation.

But instead of answers, he had questions. "You don't have feelings for her, do you?"

"I don't love her, if that's what you're asking," he snapped. "But I do… like her… in a way. It's weird; I can't explain it. I barely even understand it. There's just something about her that makes me feel - I don't know - special. I think she's purposefully screwing with my emotions, but I don't know how to react."

"I can offer you no advice except to screw with her back. Then at least you'll have some idea of why she's doing this."

"Hmm," Voldemort pondered vindictively, "That might just work."

* * *

The next morning when Bobbi woke up, she found a bouquet of flowers awaiting her on her window sill. She examined them curiously and found there to be no note. She smiled a peculiar smile, then left for breakfast.

In the Dining Hall, she sat down beside Gregory, who asked cheerfully, "How are you this morning?"

"Fantastic. The charm I set upon my window to keep me safe was finally put to use. It turned an intruder into flowers last night, and now I have a lovely bouquet in my room."

Gregory chuckled, "So the assassin failed, then?"

Bobbi smiled. "Yes, I suppose. Do you by chance know who that intruder last night was?"

"I have no idea, but if you want more flowers tonight, I think I know where you can get another."

Bobbi laughed, "How about you hold that offer for another time?"

"As you wish," he smiled.

Snape walked up to the table and addressed Bobbi directly, "Miss Bobbi, the Master would like to speak with you."

The table turned their attention to the two. Bobbi sighed, "What did I do this time?" She stood and followed Snape to the Master's table. Then he turned and left them.

"Sit," Voldemort instructed.

Bobbi sat with a smug smirk. "You just can't stand for me not to bother you, can you?"

"After lunch, we will have an Inner Circle meeting. I request that you stay after the other members have left so that I may talk to you in private."

"Yes, sir," she nodded her head.

"One more thing: Try not to crush those boys' hearts. We need good fighters, okay?"

Bobbi smiled, "Yes, sir."

* * *

After the Inner Circle meeting, Voldemort asked Bobbi to accompany him to his room. As they walked, they talked. "So who's your boyfriend this week?" Voldemort asked conversationally.

"So how many one-year-olds have defeated you this week?" she retorted.

"Oh, aren't you precious?" he grinned, patting her head roughly.

"Guess I'm a chip off the old block," she replied, adding, "Grandpa."

"Sure are. When you're my age, you'll be bald like me as well," he retorted, adding, "Sonny."

"And I'll probably wear the same ridiculous clothes as you, too."

"Don't you already?"

"Well, I borrowed these from your closet."

"Those girl clothes weren't working out for you, were they, lad?"

"If you had ever had a girlfriend, you might know what to buy me."

"If you would get a job, you could afford to buy your clothes yourself."

"If I didn't have to baby-sit you and all your boy-toys, I'd have the time to get one."

"If you could keep your hands off the boys for just a minute, I'm sure you would, too."

"There are just so many to choose from, it's hard to stay away, especially since you refuse to let any other women in the place."

"I have plenty of women. They're all just old and married."

"Pretty soon those boys with resort to house elves."

"That's why you are here."

"I thought that was for your sake."

"Maybe it was." He stopped suddenly and jerked her around by her arm to face him. Before she could object, he swept her up in his arms and placed a kiss on her lips. As soon as he released her, he stalked off in the direction of his room.

Bobbi, unlike most girls, recovered quickly. She took off after him. When she caught up to him, she followed next to him in silence.

"I won," he clarified.

"I know," she said, "And I commend you for your creativity. But I must ask you: Do you like roses?"

Voldemort smirked, "So you got my flowers, then?"

"Yes, but usually when you are about to kill somebody, you leave them black, decaying roses, not beautiful, healthy roses."

"What makes you think I want to kill you?"

"Aside from all the times you've told me how much you hate me and want to kill me?"

"Perhaps I've changed my mind."

That stopped her. "What are you saying?"

Voldemort turned around and took her hands. "I've loved you for so long, but I've been afraid to say anything. But now I want you to know. Will you spend forever with me?"

Bobbi gaped at him in open-mouthed horror, then after a moment, she smirked, "Snape put you up to this."

Voldemort dropped her hands and chuckled, "Of course, child."

Bobbi laughed nervously, "You were freaking me out for a minute."

"You didn't honestly believe -"

"No, but I thought maybe it had something to do with that anti-depressant I slipped into your tea this morning."

"You gave me anti-depressants?"

"Your constant grouchiness irritates me sometimes. Besides, you are much more enjoyable today, so it worked."

Voldemort just shook his head and turned away.

* * *

**A/N: Be warned! The following chapters will probably focus more on the drama portion of the story than the comedy. Sorry if that disappoints you, but it won't be all drama, so don't worry too much. Oh and by the way: R&R PLEASE!!**


	4. Won't You Be My Valentine?

_Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Harry Potter ™ or any lists that have been previously noted, nor do I own any song lyrics presented hereafter (and before for that matter)._

**A/N: Please enjoy. ****PS: I warned you.**

* * *

It was February. Voldemort knew it was February. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that it was Valentine's Day. So in the morning when he woke up and went downstairs to eat breakfast, he did not expect what he saw. The entire Lair was decorated top to bottom with pink, frilly, lacy hearts. All the eggs had been molded into hearts and turned pink. Likewise with the pancakes.

As he entered the Dining Hall, Bobbi began throwing heart-shaped biscuits at him. "Happy Valentine's Day!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Did you do all this?" he asked, indicating the decorations.

"Yep. I was up all night."

Voldemort just shook his head and walked away. He sat down next to Snape. "I wish the sun would come back," he sighed.

Snape bit into a pink egg. "Bobbi will always be Bobbi, Sir."

After breakfast, Bobbi followed Voldemort out of the Dining Hall, tossing biscuits at him until he finally turned around and yelled, "What?"

"_Riddle_ me this," she began, "Would it be inappropriate to have a Valentine's Day Party when I'm the only single girl here?"

He looked at her blankly, "Since when is anything you do appropriate?"

She was about to answer when something behind him caught her eye. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled against his chest. Before he could do anything about this, they heard several gasps and footsteps running down the hall. Then Bobbi let go, stepped back, and glanced around him. "Okay, that's taken care of. Anyway, what were you saying? Oh, right. I guess nothing I ever do is appropriate. The party's on!" She turned to walk away, then called back over her shoulder, "Don't be late."

At dinnertime, Snape popped into Voldemort's room. "Ah, Snape," Voldemort greeted, "I was just about to go to dinner."

"There will be no dinner in the Dining Hall tonight, Sir. Bobbi has cancelled it to throw a party there instead. There will be food and beverage, however, and everyone is invited. She sent me to make sure you went."

"_She_ sent _you_ to get _me_?"

Snape chuckled, remembering his part in the puppet show and toying with the idea that he was Harry Potter. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

Voldemort sighed. "I suppose."

They walked together to the Dining Hall. The loud music rang down the hallway even though the doors were shut. Snape pulled open a door and held it for Voldemort to enter, then closed it behind himself.

Bobbi, wearing a red tube dress with spaghetti straps, danced over to the two men. Smiling, she said, "Thank you, Severus."

"You're welcome, Miss Bobbi." He left them.

Bobbi turned to Voldemort, smiling. "_Riddle_ me this. If a man was at a party and the only girl in the room asked him to dance, what should he do?"

"He should dance," Voldemort answered without much consideration.

"Care to dance?" she held her hand out to him.

Voldemort quickly analyzed the situation. If he danced with her, people would talk. But if he did not, she might cry. "Yes."

Smiling gleefully, she took his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. It was a slow song and the only other couples were the Malfoys and the Lestranges. People were definitely going to talk.

Cautiously, Voldemort placed his hands on her waist. Was it just his imagination or had she grown? Once they started dancing, he realized that she was wearing heels. They were rather graceful despite the fact that he had not danced in decades. At the end of the song, he tried to leave, but Bobbi held tightly to his hand and begged him for just one more. Groaning, he accepted. Halfway through the song, however, she abruptly Apperated them outside into the pouring rain. She laughed as she twirled around his hand.

Voldemort, however, was furious. "Why did you do that?" he barked.

"Barking is for dogs, Volders," she scolded.

"Why?" he demanded.

"It was too crowded in there, and I want you all to myself," she answered with a sparkle in her eye. Running her finger down his arm, she added in a low, sexy voice, "Will you be my Valentine?"

A slight chill ran down Voldemort's spine, and not because of the rain. He was being seduced and he could feel it. He had been a seducer before. He knew these moves. And even though it went completely against everything he knew and believed, he did not fight it. He wanted to be vulnerable to this girl, wanted her to do whatever she felt like to him. He whispered, "Yes."

Bobbi took his head in both of her hands and lowered his face to hers. She kissed him lightly once, twice, just to make sure he was telling the truth. She pulled back to look in his face. He smiled thinly. She brought her lips back to his and kissed him more passionately. He responded slowly, afraid he might scare her off by his lack of practice or by how desperate he was for her.

Standing in the only window facing the two lovers was Snape, smiling and nodding his head like he had been anticipating this for a long time. He lifted his master's camera and took a picture. Then he disappeared.

Ten minutes after they had left, Bobbi returned alone to the dance, wearing different shoes and a sleek, silver, strapless dress. She had her usual grin on. "Where did you go? What happened?" Gregory bombarded her, flanked by several other curious boys.

"We Apperated outside. He didn't like that too much. He got angry and challenged me to a duel," she answered smoothly.

"Who won?" Draco asked.

"He did, but he cheated. I know he did, I just can't figure out how. After that, he left me standing in the rain. My dress was soaked and my shoes were muddy, so I just changed. I dried myself off with a spell. Nifty little spell, it is. So, who's ready to dance?"

"It would be my turn," Gregory volunteered, taking her hand and leading her onto the floor. He proved to be an excellent dancer. "So, why did you take him outside?" he asked as they floated gracefully around the room.

Bobbi giggled, "It was funny. His head almost exploded, he was so furious."

Bobbi danced with nearly every eligible man/boy in the Hall and finally at half past midnight, she returned to her room. She shut the door behind her without turning on the light. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, and did not plan to change before sleeping. Kicking off her shoes, she flopped carelessly onto her bed. When she landed, a body moved under her and cried, "Hey!"

She immediately flipped on the lights. "Gregory!" she cried out in surprise.

He was sitting up, rubbing his gut. "That hurt. Be more careful."

"Oh, I should be more careful the next time I jump into bed to go to sleep. I might hurt the creep hiding in my bed in the dark."

"I didn't mean to hide. I just wanted to talk to you. I expected you to turn on the lights first."

"Well, since you already gave me a heart attack waiting for me, I might as well listen. Go ahead."

"Okay. Um, did you have fun at the dance? Dance with anyone you like?"

"You're a good dancer, okay. You probably were the best I danced with tonight."

Gregory shook his head. "That's not where I'm going with this. I'm asking about the guy. The one you like. Did you dance with him tonight?"

"Yes, but I danced with nearly every available guy tonight."

"That still narrows it down. I can mark off everyone who is married, didn't come, and the three you didn't dance with. Thank God it's not Wormtail!"

Bobbi laughed. "You paid attention. Now leave. I don't want people talking."

When she had finally kicked him out, she locked the door. Turning off the light, she slipped into bed under the covers and pulled out her Journal. She pulled out her wand, whispered, "Lumos," and began recording her brief moment with Voldemort. When she finished, she closed the journal, hugged it to her chest, hid it in her secret hiding place, and went to sleep.

* * *

The following days continued in their normal routine; Bobbi continued to harass Voldemort and Voldemort continued to scold her and react angrily. They both took special care in keeping their kiss a secret. Every so often, Bobbi would say she needed to hunt and leave. However, after she had finished she would return (unseen) to Voldemort's room instead of her own and they would share the time together to talk to each other about themselves and for relationship building. Then before she would return to her room, they would share a few intimate kisses. Of course, they could not do this too often or else others might get suspicious.

During one of their secret meetings, Bobbi and Voldemort happened across a rough patch in the conversation.

"So, why is it that you decided to be a dark lord?" Bobbi asked as a joke.

Voldemort, however, took it seriously. "I hate people."

"Whoa. Why so bitter?"

"People have never been nice to me. They've never respected me, and I deserve respect."

Bobbi pulled her legs up onto the couch and crossed them. Patting her lap, she said, "Tell Mamma all about it."

Despite the joke, Voldemort scowled. "She's the cause of all this."

"Your mom?" Bobbi asked, paying serious attention now. It seems her psychologist mode had kicked in.

Voldemort turned his head resentfully, "Can we not talk about this?"

"I think it would be better if we did," Bobbi objected.

"Oh, please," he scoffed, standing up and heading toward the door.

But Bobbi was quicker, and she blocked his exit. "There is too much anger inside of you. We need to talk so you can let this go."

"What do you care? You're not really my psychiatrist."

"But I am your friend. I do care about you, more than you know. And I know about emotions. I majored in psychology in America."

"But you don't know how I feel!"

"I would if you'd just tell me!"

"I don't want to tell you!"

"But you _need_ to tell me. You can't go on living life without a heart. You need to let go of your fear and hatred, because when fear and hatred crowd your heart nothing else can get in."

"I'm not afraid of anything," he snarled, yet did not move to leave.

"But you are angry and resentful. If you'd just let those feelings go, you'd be a lot happier. Just tell me. You can trust me. What's wrong?"

Voldemort crossed his arms. He stared at her loathingly.

Bobbi crossed her own arms and stared right back. She would win this staring competition. She did not have to blink.

After a few minutes, Voldemort finally looked away.

Bobbi softened her gaze and her voice, "You don't have to tell me exactly what happened. Just tell me this. The people that hurt you - they aren't here, are they? They're all gone. They aren't here to bother you, hurt you, make you feel worthless. They can't make you feel worthless, can they? Do you know why that is? Because you're not. You're not worthless, Tom, and no one can make you be worthless; no one but yourself. If you would let go of all these negative emotions, you'd feel a lot better. Trust me, I know. And I know you can trust me." She uncrossed her arms and spread them.

He looked at her longingly, but he did not want to give in to her.

"You know it'll make you feel better," she offered with an encouraging smile.

_Oh, who am I kidding? I can't resist her_, he thought. With a sigh, he uncrossed his arms and allowed her to hug him. She wrapped her arms soothingly around him and rubbed his back. Suddenly, some new emotion rose to the surface of his cold heart, some strange emotion that made him slightly uncomfortable, and yet he liked it. With a brief hesitation, he wrapped his arms around this small girl and let this new emotion soften his stale heart. And for a moment, as they were wrapped in each other's arms, for once in his life he felt loved.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for such a short chapter, but I thought I should make the major romance scenes be held in different chapters. Too much romance in concentrated writing form makes me weak.**


	5. Birthday Surprise

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything that I don't normally own. You know what I don't normally own. You also know you should read that funny list by know-it-all-bookworm._

**A/N: Warning! This chapter will get romantic, as romances are doomed to be. It is advised to anyone who values their sanity, to all you kiddies out there, and to those of you I have personally recommended to read my fanfic, that you do not read the large italicized section that follows this notice. I shouldn't have even put it in, but the evil portion of my brain won't let me leave it out. So, read at your own risk! And don't worry; if you skip that part, you won't be missing anything but a headache. Enjoy! PS: You've been warned!**

* * *

On Voldemort's birthday, Bobbi decided to give him a special present:

**(A/N: this is the part you are advised to skip)**

_She dug through all the clothes laying on the floor of her closet until she found two boxes, one holding her Invisibility Cloak and the other his present. After fixing herself up, she tossed he cloak over her head and snuck to Voldemort's bedroom wall. She knocked three times._

"_Who is it?" Voldemort called._

"_You know who," she answered._

"_You lie. He's already in here," he joked._

"_Close your eyes. I've brought your present," she commanded, "No peeking." Then she Apperated into his room._

_Voldemort had his long-fingered hand over his eyes. "Can I look?"_

"_One second." She discarded the cloak. "Okay, open your eyes."_

_He removed his hand and gazed at her. "Wow," he gasped in astonishment._

"_Do you like it?" she asked shyly, striking a pose._

_Voldemort took a moment to take in her outfit. She was wearing a skimpy, lacy, black bra with a matching thong. He grinned at her appreciatively, "I love it."_

_Bobbi smiled back, relieved. She approached his bed slowly in the most seductive manner she could manage. She saddled his lap and slowly leaned towards him bringing her soft lips to his. After a minute, she pulled her face back a few inches to readjust herself. She slid back, just enough to bring her legs up onto the bed and wrap them around his waist. As she was pulling herself forward with her legs, Voldemort breathed, "You don't have to do this, you know."_

"_Did I do something wrong?" she asked, pulling back to give him some room. _

"_No, no!" he amended, "I just mean if you're only doing this to keep me from breaking up with you, you don't have to. You've already got me hooked."_

"_I want to do this," she whispered honestly, "I want to love you."_

"_Then continue," he whispered, pulling her closer until she was pressed firmly to him. He kissed her passionately, wrapping his arms around her back._

_She kissed him back, holding the back of his head with one hand as she slid her tongue along his lips and into his mouth, moving his head to get better access. With her available hand, she rubbed his back. She wrapped herself longingly around him as they dove into passion such as neither had ever experience before._

"_Wait," he breathed, letting go of her. Obediently, she dropped her hands and leaned back, patient yet irritated. "Help me take my robe off." She smiled, slowly removing the upper half of the black garment. He stood and with a little tugging from her toes, his robe fell to the floor. She wrapped her legs tighter around his hips and he stepped out of his robe. Now they were both only clothed in undergarments. He wrapped one arm around her back and used the other to hold her head, just as she did with him. Carefully, they slid into the bed…_

**(A/N: now you may continue safely with the story)**

The next morning… As the digital clock next to the bed changed to show 6:00, Bobbi's eyes flew open. She glanced up at Voldemort's peaceful face, then smiling she snuggled into his chest.

He breathed in deeply at her sudden movement. "You awake?" he sighed sleepily, hugging her tighter.

"Mm, hmm." She unfolded her arms and stretched them up around his neck. Gently, she pulled herself up to where her face met his neck. She ran the tip of her nose along his collar bone.

Gently, he lifted her chin to where he could look into her beautiful eyes. He smiled at her affectionately, "Morning, Bobbi."

"Morning…" she paused, a worried look crossing her perfect face. She did not know what she should call him.

"Tom," he answered her thoughts.

"You sure?"

"Go ahead. Just not in public."

"Tom," she smiled, kissing his chin, "Morning, Tom." She cuddled closer into him.

At 6:10, the alarm clock rang, disturbing the serenity of their time together.

"Silence!" Voldemort hissed, and it stopped.

"Nice," Bobbi complemented, and he chuckled.

At 6:30, they were yet again interrupted when Wormtail popped into the room unannounced. Voldemort sat up immediately to block Bobbi's body from being seen. "Wormtail, leave!" he shouted.

"Sorry, my Lord," he whimpered.

"Now!" And Wormtail was gone. Voldemort remained propped up by his arm, breathing heavily, his face angry.

Bobbi uncovered her head and flipped onto her side to look at Voldemort. Her surprise turned to humor as she beheld him, "Wow, you scared him."

"Am I scary?" he asked, looking down at her.

"You can be rather forceful when you want to be." She smiled and scooted closer to him, pushing herself up on one arm. "That kinda," she ran a finger down his white, naked chest, "turns me on."

His face softened into a smile, "It does, does it?" He rolled over on top of her laughing, and she squealed with delight. He brought his face down a few inches above hers.

She licked his chin like a puppy, and they both laughed. "You know," she observed, "I think this is the first time I've seen you truly smiling."

"Being with you makes me happy," he explained, then brought his lips to hers and kissed her. Still kissing, they rolled over so that she was on top.

She raised her shoulders and pulled away sighing. "I wish we could be this way all the time. I've never been this way with anyone, not even with my ex-husband."

"Your ex-husband?" Voldemort questioned skeptically.

"Yeah. About ten years ago, my father insisted that I pass on my rare gene to an offspring. So he arranged for me to marry this pureblood man who really wanted a kid. So he got me pregnant and I had a baby girl. I stuck around until she didn't need to breastfeed anymore; then I left. We got divorced and I ran off to do whatever I felt like. Don't think I just abandoned them, though. They live next door to my dad and I do come back to visit on occasion and every one of her birthdays. But I couldn't stay and be a house-mother. I got bored of America, so Father sent me to live with cousin Draco and that's how a became a Death Eater."

"Wait, back it up. You said ten tears ago. You can't have a baby when you're 8."

Bobbi looked at him amused and laughed. "I was 18 when I had her."

Voldemort stared at her, confused. "I thought you said you were 18 now."

"Yeah. I'm part vampire. I don't age."

Realization dawned on him. "Oh! So that's what you meant when you said you considered yourself older when we painted the Easter eggs."

Bobbi laughed, kissed him on the check, and asked, "Does that clear things up for you?"

He nodded. Hesitantly, he asked, "So how old are you really?"

"Let's see. I was born in '58. I'd be 50."

Voldemort whistled. "So that's how you know so many spells."

"Yep."

Voldemort smirked, "Well, I guess I don't feel so bad sleeping with you now that I know I'm only old enough to be your father and not your grandfather."

Bobbi giggled. She slid off of him and onto her side. He turned to face her. Smiling, he stroked her hair. "You're beautiful," he observed lovingly.

"Thanks," she giggled, "So are you."

"No I'm not," he argued softly, slightly furrowing his brow, "I'm hideous."

"You're beautiful to me." She stroked his cheek affectionately, kissing the worry off his face.

…

Half past 7 o'clock, Bobbi reluctantly returned to her room. She wrapped the Invisibility Cloak around her body, leaving her head uncovered, and Apperated back into her room. Still covered, she dug through her closet to find some clothes. Just as she had picked an outfit, someone knocked on her door. "Who is it?" she called.

"It's me, Gregory."

"Could you come back in a minute? Just go find something else to do for awhile, okay."

"Why? Is something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm rather bloody from the hunt last night, and I think you should take me at my word when I say that you don't want to see what I got on me." She stole into the bathroom and threw her clothes on in a haste. Then she opened the door, where Gregory was still waiting for her, a serious expression on his face. "You know, if you don't do what I ask you to, I'll have to stop letting you hand with me."

"Sorry, but we need to talk. Right now." He pushed her into the room and shut the door quickly behind himself. "Let me just get straight to the point," he began, "Your obsession with the master is not healthy."

"Nor is yours with me," she countered.

"Stop interrupting and listen. I know what you've been doing after your hunts. You might have everyone else fooled, but not me."

She looked at him in alarm. "What do you know? Wait, don't tell me yet. Let's go somewhere that's more private." She grabbed his arm and Apperated them to a long, bare stretch of land he had never seen before. They sat down cross-legged on the ground and took hands. A few seconds later, they disappeared, swallowed by the ground. They reappeared in a hidden, underground room, dimly lit with charmed candles. "Now," she commanded, "Tell me what you know."

"You've been with _him_," he accused sharply, "Up in his room. I know you have. I'm not sure exactly what you do up there, but I can guess."

"Oh," Bobbi replied with fake surprise at his insinuations, "That's what you think I've been doing?" She chuckled at him.

"Don't try to trick me, Bobbi. It's not gonna work this time. I know you have been with the master."

"Yeah, but I haven't been _sleeping_ with him! I've just been talking to him, getting to know him, you know."

"You haven't just been talking to him. I've seen the way he looks at you. You two hide it pretty well, but sometimes he slips. With you, no one can tell because your face is always caring. But him… it's not as difficult to tell."

"Darn it! Men are so unreliable," Bobbi pout, crossing her arms. Then she stared with fear at him, "You're not gonna tell anyone, are you? We just kiss, nothing else. I've never stayed long enough for anything else to happen."

Gregory smiled, touching her shoulder. "Your secret's safe with me."

Bobbi sighed, relieved, "Thanks, Gregory. You are a real friend."

"I'm glad you trust me," he said, wishing he could trust her even more.

They hugged, then returned home.

**A/N: I'm sorry for such a short chapter again, but I promise the following chapters will be much longer.**


	6. My Dirty Little Secret

_Disclaimer: How dare you think I own Harry Potter! I would never have ended it the way J K Rowling did. I would have ended it like this:_

**A/N: Alright, readers! This is the part where you quickly abandon your loyalty to my story because it gets way too bizarre. This is the transition from Humor to Romance. Sorry if you wanted more comedy, but now it's time for drama! But don't worry; sometimes drama can be funny.**

* * *

Sometime later, during one of their secret meetings, Bobbi decided to tell Voldemort a secret, "Somebody knows about us."

Voldemort sighed. "I knew this would happen. I'm not quite as good an actor as I once was."

"It's not your fault. He's been suspicious for awhile. He's completely obsessed with knowing my every move."

"Should we dispose of him?"

"No! He's still my friend, even if he is a creepy, little stalker, and he's sworn not to tell," Bobbi defended.

"Can we trust him?" Voldemort asked first.

"I trust him. But if he told, who would believe him anyway?"

Voldemort nodded. Then he turned a serious expression on her, "Does he know about…?"

"No. He only knows we kiss. I'm actually surprised he knows that much. He's not very bright."

"Obsession does that to people. It makes them behave in curious ways."

"Somebody told me the same thing about love," Bobbi grinned.

"Love is my reason," Voldemort smiled, taking her hand.

Giggling, she leaned over and kissed him.

* * *

The next week at dinner, Bobbi was flirting aimlessly with her guy friends as she always did. In addition to Draco, Crabbe, Gregory, and Phil, a few other boys including Blaise Zambini were often seen hanging around with her. These teens were almost always together in their free time, smiling, laughing, and having fun. As of recently, a new werewolf brother had joined the Death Eaters and upon arrival had bonded himself immediately with Bobbi. He was tall, dark, and handsome with emerald green eyes that pierced the soul. He was witty, charming, and sixteen. And Voldemort hated him. He feared that Bobbi would find more in common with this beautiful, flaunty, teenage boy and forget about her old Volders for a more playful, exciting puppy. After all, he was also an American.

Currently, Voldemort was sitting at his own table, scowling unconsciously as he watched Bobbi giggle and flip her hair as she talked with the werewolf-boy.

"Something wrong, Master?" Snape asked as he turned to locate the target of his master's discomfort. "Ah, yes," he said as he spied the careless teens, "Children can be rather annoying when they are chipper." He chuckled inwardly at his knowingly false assumptions.

Voldemort straightened his face when he realized that his emotions were showing. In an agitated voice, he complained, "No matter what she does, she is a constant thorn in my side."

"She can be quite a nuisance, but that is why we all love her."

"Do you love her, Snape?" Voldemort snapped._ Whoa, calm yourself,_ he instructed himself silently, _Don't overreact and give yourself away again._

"Not as much as others," Snape replied cleverly, forking a tomato.

Now that could not be ignored. Voldemort glared at him, "What are you insinuating, Snape?"

"Nothing," Snape lied almost convincingly.

Voldemort would not have that. "Legilimency!" he whispered roughly. He saw through Snape's eyes the puppet show for Bobbi's birthday, the last act. Then he saw Snape standing in a room with a camera, taking a picture of the Valentine's Day Kiss. Voldemort was so shocked, he stopped mid-scene. Roughly, he grabbed Snape's arm and Apperated to their secret meeting place. Voldemort held Snape threateningly by the shoulders, slammed him against the wall, and demanded furiously, "How much do you know?"

"You got together on Valentine's Day; you meet her the nights after she hunts; you really trust her and she really trusts you," Snape admitted in a frightened rush, "She hasn't told anyone about your relationship; only Goyle knows and only about the kisses; and on your birthday-" he cut himself off, clapping his hand over his mouth.

Voldemort snarled furiously. He yanked back his wand-arm, grabbed his wand, and brought it dangerously close to Snape's throat. He held it there for a long moment, breathing heavily. Snape stared at him with the most terrified look on his face.

"I'm sorry," Snape gasped, then clapped his hand back over his mouth.

Voldemort glared at him loathingly, then with a sudden change in emotion, let him go and spun around, hiding his face. He grabbed the back of a chair with both hands, leaning slightly on it. He took a few forced, deep breaths. Snape, still in shock, did not move, staring at Voldemort.

"Can you keep a secret, Snape?" Voldemort asked, not moving.

"Yes, Master," he replied, but his voice started to shake, so he dropped to a harsh whisper, "I have been since Valentine's Day."

"I've fallen for her," Voldemort continued, also whispering, "hard. I didn't know that I could feel this way. She says she's evil, and I believe her. But she behaves like an immature, disobedient, overenthusiastic, always cheerful, hyperactive, uncontainable child; and yet I," his fists tightened on the chair until they were so white, they were blue, "I love her."

"She loves you back, Sir. I'm sure of it."

"But how can I _love_ her?!" he shouted, spinning wildly to stare at Snape, "How can I _love_ her? I can't _love_. It's not who I am. It's not what I do. It completely and utterly interferes with my life, my goals, my nature. Someone like me is not equipped, is not _fit_, to love someone like Bobbi! She deserves better, much better, an entire galaxy better. I'm not a person. I'm barely alive. How can _she_ love _me_? It makes no sense!" He breathed heavily, then dropped his voice to a confidential tone, "But I don't want it to make sense. I want her in all her crazy, irrational glory to love me even though I don't deserve her. I am so confused!" He plopped down heavily in the chair, frustrated and depressed. "She deserves to have that wolf-boy. He would understand her more. He could please her more. I hardly have a thing in common with her. I'm vapid and overcritical, and I won't play any of the games she likes because they embarrass me - she said so herself. But I bet that boy is yet mature enough to bother with anyone's opinion but Bobbi's or his own." Voldemort hid his face in his hands.

"Looks life she has you bad. Why don't you just tell her you love her? Or show her?"

"How can I show her without losing the respect of my followers? They think I'm strong. If they knew that I love Bobbi, they would think I went soft. But that's not the worst part. If we ever had a spy among us, he would find out and tell that _Potter_," he spat the name, "and they would take her and torture her to get to me. I won't let them hurt her. But I can't keep her locked up. I'd have to let her outside. You see, Snape; this is why I can't love her or let her love me. I was stupid to let it get this far. It'll hurt worse when I tell her she has to leave."

Snape reacted with shock, "You will make her leave? That's not possible, Sir. She would resist and others would fight to keep her here. She has irrevocably become the heart of the Death Eaters."

Voldemort groaned. "I knew this would happen. Women always do this! You can't even like one without her destroying your life." He shook his head despairingly, "What can I do?"

"Take a risk," Snape suggested, "Tell her what you told me and ask her for her opinion. She is wise despite her immature disposition. She will help you figure it out."

"You're right, Snape. I can trust her."

…

That night, Voldemort pulled out his own Invisibility Cloak and snuck into Bobbi's room. Unfortunately, when he arrived she was in the shower, so he decided to sit on the bed and wait. When she entered 20 minutes later, she was wrapped in a black, fuzzy towel. At first, she thought she was alone, but then she saw the slight indention on the edge of her bed, and her face turned red. She hissing threateningly, "Gregory, if that's you, I swear-" but then she sniffed the air and a grin began to form on her face, "Garlic-scented soap. My master has come to visit me."

Voldemort pulled the Cloak over his head and dropped it to the floor.

Bobbi smirked at him, "I have no idea what you're doing here and I'm not sure I'll approve."

Voldemort cracked a smile on his otherwise serious face. Then, as soon as it had come, it was gone. "Bobbi, I need to talk to you about something serious."

Bobbi's face fell, "Um, why don't I go get dressed first. Hand me my clothes," she pointed to the bed.

"I could leave for a minute if you'd rather dress in here."

"No, I need to dress in the bathroom. Trust me on this." She left and within 5 minutes was back, a pink, fluffy towel around her hair.

"Why didn't you-"

"Don't ask, please. So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Listen, I had a conversation with Snape today at dinner-"

"Oh, that's where you went."

"Yeah. So I found out he knows about us. Everything about us. But I want you to listen to our conversation. Do you have a Pensive? Never mind, we'll just use mine in my room." He took her hand and they Apperated there. He held the wand to his head and pulled out a silvery liquid-stream, then placed it in the Pensive. Bobbi glanced at him quickly, then entered the memory. Voldemort entered after her. They came in on the part when Voldemort was reading Snape's memories, and the next three scenes flashed by quickly until they were in the secret room. As the scene progressed, Bobbi looked up at Voldemort, confused.

"Listen to what I say," he explained.

They watched the scene continue in silence. When it finished, they were pulled out of the memory. In the dim light of his room, Voldemort saw Bobbi looking up at him, tears running down her face. Immediately, he felt awful for making her cry. The feeling grew worse when she hugged him and said, "It'll be okay. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. I will take care of things."

A lump formed in Voldemort's throat. He tried to talk past it, but he could not.

Bobbi sat him down on his bed and rubbing his back, said, "If you need me to, I can leave. I won't put up a fight. I could just go live in another place until-"

"No!" Voldemort fought the lump. "No, I don't want you to leave. I want you to help me figure this out so that we _can_ be together."

"You want me to stay?" Bobbi squeaked.

"Yes. I need you, Bobbi. I don't want to give you up." He took her hand and squeezed it gently, "I love you."

Bobbi smiled magnificently as only a girl in love could. She was speechless. She couldn't think. All she could do was feel the glow of her heart.

Upon seeing her smile, Voldemort felt his heart lift. He knew she loved him. He knew it, and he could not help but get lost in her eyes. She was a part of him and he of her.

Neither could move, so enraptured by each other that they lost all sense of time. After a long period of silence, Bobbi finally said, "I love you, too." And then she kissed him more passionately than she had ever kissed anyone before, so passionately that when she pulled away, they were both dizzy and had to lie down for a minute.

"So," Voldemort prompted in a whisper, "what do you say we should do?"

"I want to say that we should stop hiding and let anyone who cares figure it out himself, but I think we should think this through first."

"Tomorrow," Voldemort breathed, "For now, let's enjoy the moment." He pulled her gently but swiftly against his body and held her in a loving embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his chest, and they fell asleep this way.

…

In the morning when Voldemort awoke, he was under the covers, alone. Groggily, he sat up and looked around. He saw no evidence that Bobbi had been there until he looked down and noticed that he was wearing the pink pajamas he had gotten from her for Christmas. He shook his head with a small smile. Typical Bobbi. He never knew how to react to her whimsical ways. He knew it was a caring gesture, tucking him into bed. But he also knew she had overdone it on purpose just to spoil the moment by turning it into a joke so that she could pretend that she was not as weak and vulnerable to him as they both really were to each other.

Annoyed yet slightly amused, Voldemort got dressed for the new day.

As he walked through the Dining Hall doors, Bobbi made a show of throwing confetti at him. He swatted at her as usual, and like always she ran off laughing to her little boyfriends.

Bobbi sat down at the table with her friends and they began to eat.

"Bobbi," one of the boys named Mel began, "Why do you eat normal food if you are a vampire?"

"Well, Mel," Bobbi chuckled, "I don't need human blood to survive, but if I don't quench my thirst for it, I can't interact with normal humans because I'll be craving it so bad that I'm bound to slip up. At the same time, I could live without 'normal food', but then I'll have to go hunting thrice as often. Basically, it's just much easier to have both."

"Oh," Mel commented.

Bobbi giggled. Then she took a bite of her bacon. "'Sides, I could never do without my breakfast."

"I know what you mean," Jake the werewolf said, "Humans just can't match the taste of shredded hog flesh."

"Right on!" Bobbi high-fived him.

The others gave them identical odd looks.

"Werewolves," Crabbe snorted.

"Americans," Draco scoffed.

"Both," Bobbi and Jake replied in unison.

"What're we gonna do today?" Mel asked.

"You ask a lot of questions, Mel. Curiosity killed the cat," Bobbi observed.

"Why don't we bother Voldemort?" Jake offered boldly. Everyone else at the table stopped their eating to glare at him. He looked up at the sudden silence, "What?"

"One huge thing," Gregory began, "You can't get away with that; only Bobbi can because she's different."

"Well, I'm just as different as her."

"Wrong. Being American and being a werewolf have nothing to do with it. Bobbi is immortal; Bobbi is uncatchable; Bobbi is our best fighter and is therefore indispensable; Bobbi is a female; Bobbi is greater than pureblood; and… well I'm sure there is more, but overall, bothering the master is Bobbi's thing, not yours."

"Thank you, Gregory," Bobbi concluded.

"So, what else can we do?" Jake asked. He knew not to pursue what had already been ended by Bobbi.

Bobbi picked up a biscuit and hit Jake in the head with it. Then she picked up another one and hit Mel with it. She picked up a third one, looked over at Snape, and smiled evilly. "Who wants to bet whether I can hit Snape with this?" Before anyone could answer, she pulled back her arm and hurled it. The biscuit pelted him right smack in the forehead. Immediately, the entire table of teens roared with laughter. The rest of the room turned to stare at the abrupt, unexpected noise so early in the morning.

Snape growled, then returned to eating.

"Now hit Voldemort," Jake laughed.

Bobbi glanced at him, picked up a biscuit, and handed it to him. "You throw it," she commanded, standing and pulling him up to stand beside her. He shrugged his shoulders and threw it. As it left his hand and sped toward Voldemort, Bobbi charged after it, jumping to catch it in midair and landing heavily onto a table. Snape and Voldemort jumped out of their seats in shock as she crashed on their table. She slid over the edge and onto the floor, dishes and food following her. Everyone in the room stood up to get a better look while Bobbi's table ran over to see if she was okay. She was laying on the floor, laughing spastically. "Ow! It hurts, it hurts!" Then she continued to laugh, rubbing her back. She shot her other hand out, holding the biscuit. She looked up, took aim, and hit a shocked Jake in the face. Then she said, "Someone please help me up."

Gregory reached down and pulled her up, steadying her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just-" she extracted a knife from her back. When she saw it, she started giggling again and tossed it aside.

Voldemort, finally getting past the shock, bellowed, "BOBBI!!""I'm right here. You don't have to yell," she said, covering her ears.

Voldemort's face turned so red, his eyes became bloodshot, and he could not speak for a full minute. Finally, he calmed down enough to growl, "If you were my child, I would beat you."

Bobbi was still laughing and her eyes began to water. She had to have Gregory to support her. Gregory looked uneasily at her, "Um, someone help me drag her to the hospital wing. I think she's losing it." Jake volunteered, but Gregory turned him down, "_You_ stay here and help clean up the mess. I'll just carry her myself." He then lifted Bobbi in his arms and carried her out of the room. When he had gotten far enough down the hall, he Apperated into her room. He then carried her into her bathroom and sat her down in the shower/tub. He sat on the edge and asked her, "What is your deal?"

"I don't know," she answered, being serious now, "I just feel overly hyper today. I shouldn't though, cuz-" but she stopped, debating whether to tell him or not, then asked, "You wanna know why I shouldn't? It's kinda gross."

Gregory thought about it, then replied, "I'll take my chances. Tell me."

"I'm on my period," she whispered, then returned to her normal voice, "I'm normally much more sober this time of the month, but there's something about today… I don't know." She sighed, then seemed to ponder something. She turned a dishearteningly sad gaze on him, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure," he replied, moving closer.

Bobbi bowed her head, sighed, and continued, "The truth is I'm thinking about leaving." She could not look at him.

Gregory gaped at her, "Why?"

"It's complicated."

"Try to explain."

"Well, things between me and Voldemort are getting too personal. Don't get me wrong. I love the man. But I got to thinking about what could happen if we were to go public about our relationship. I _want_ to be able to be with him and not have to hide it anymore. But then I considered what could happen if an enemy found out. I'm not all that worried about being captured by them because I could easily escape; but Voldemort is afraid that they would hurt me to get to him. He initially thought it would be a good idea for me to leave until after it is completely safe for me to return, but let's be realistic; that will never happen. Do you know what he told me last night? He told me he loves me. But he thinks that if anyone else found out, they would think he was soft. I don't want to ruin his life or his reputation because he has feelings for me. Urg! I am so confused!" She buried her face in her hands.

"It's okay, Bobbi." Gregory patted her back. "If it means anything, I don't think he's soft. I know you and I know how wonderful you are, and to me that makes him stronger, being able to attract you so much that you love him."

She gazed up at him through her tears, "You think so?"

"Totally," he smiled.

Back in the Dining Hall, the boys were just finishing cleaning up the mess.

"Don't know why Goyle doesn't have to help," grumbled Jake. The others mumbled their agreements.

"Or Bobbi," Draco added, but the others stopped their work to glare at him. He turned to glare back, "What?"

"Bobbi's undergoing a lot of stress," Snape said, passing by them.

"Exactly," the others agreed.

Draco rolled his eyes and continued.

A few minutes later, Bobbi and Gregory walked back through the doors. "Oh, you already cleaned up," Bobbi observed, "I'm sorry, you guys. I should have been more careful. I didn't mean to make you guys stay and clean up my mess."

"It's okay, Bobbi," Jake said, "It wasn't that hard."

"Speak for yourself," Draco snapped. He turned angrily to Bobbi, "I'm sick of cleaning up after you! You are such a nuisance!"

Bobbi's eyes welled up and she started to sob. She turned her face and hid it in Gregory's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back.

All the other boys glared hatefully at Draco, then hurried over to comfort Bobbi.

"You made her cry, dude," Jake scoffed disgustedly.

They left Draco standing alone in the Dining Hall, muttering under his breath. After a moment of deliberating, he huffed and ran after his friends. "Bobbi, wait," he called, catching up to them, "Bobbi, I'm sorry."

She turned to look at him, "No, you're right, Draco. I am a pest. I just annoy everyone. That's why I'm thinking about leaving."

The boys stared at her in horror. "You want to leave us?" Mel squeaked.

"You can't leave," Jake declared loudly, "You're, like, the coolest person here. And you're the only person who understands everyone. You just can't."

"I said I was thinking about leaving. Everyone would be better off then."

"No, everyone would not," Phil argued, "Everyone would miss you."

"You can't leave," several others repeated.

"Bobbi, I don't want you to leave," Draco amended, "You know I just get irritated sometimes."

"Yeah, don't leave cuz Drakey here has a poor sense of humor," Jake insisted.

"You guys really want me to stay?" Bobbi asked in a small voice.

They all answered in the affirmative.

Bobbi brightened up, "I guess I will, then."

Later on, Voldemort pulled Bobbi to the side to talk to her in private. "Child, what was your problem this morning?"

Bobbi smiled guiltily, "I guess I was so happy about what you said last night that I couldn't contain myself."

"Which part was that?"

Telepathically, Bobbi answered, _'When you told me you love me.'_

A fire appeared in Voldemort's eyes. Smiling, he replied telepathically, _'You told me the same thing.'_

'_I told you the truth.'_ Aloud, she said, "I better get back to the boys before they come looking for me."

Voldemort restored his expression to its usual, blank self. Bobbi skipped off to dinner merrily, Voldemort following calmly after her. Bobbi took her regular seat at her table while Voldemort took his by Snape. And everyone was none the wiser.

…

Around midnight, Bobbi met with Voldemort in the secret study to discuss their relationship. "We know I can't leave," Bobbi said, "All my boys would be destroyed, as would I. So, what do we do?"

"Let's make a list," Voldemort suggested.

"We could stop hiding and just let them figure it out. A bit risky, but what isn't?"

"We'll consider it. You could pretend to be with one of those boys and instead be with me. It would be a good cover," Voldemort added.

"I'll consider it. But he will have to know that we are together and be completely loyal to us. Gregory would do that."

"What else?"

Bobbi leaned closer, "Well, I'm definitely not giving you up, so you can cross that off."

Voldemort chuckled, placing a kiss on her lips. Then he sighed and looked sadly at her, "There really is no way to be absolutely safe, is there?"

Bobbi took his hand reassuringly, "We will figure this out, I swear. Nothing will happen to me. Nothing ever does. Why should there be any difference?"

Voldemort chewed his lip, then took her other hand and told her, "You're right. I don't care what anyone else thinks about us. I don't care if they think I've gone soft. You are amazing and you are mine and I shouldn't be ashamed of that. Let them form opinions. I'm still their master and I'll still rule this world. But now, I'll rule it with you."

"Oh," Bobbi cooed, "That's so sweet, Tom."

"Don't turn me into a pansy," he fake scolded. Then he laughed lightly and stroked her face with their intertwined hands. "I love you," he whispered.

She leaned forward and kissed him, "I love you, too."

…

The next morning, Voldemort waited for Bobbi outside her bedroom door. She emerged with an even brighter smile than her normal, and taking his hand, walked with him to breakfast. This particular morning, the room was loud with chatter. However, when Voldemort and Bobbi walked in holding hands, it went dead silent. Every eye was on the pair. Ignoring their stares, the two walked over to an empty table in the corner and began eating. Then the room burst into deafening gossip.

"They're talking about us," Voldemort sighed.

"They're talking about us," Bobbi laughed. She leaned on him and said, "Let them talk."

At Bobbi's table, the boys were shocked, all except Gregory. While the rest let their jaws hang open, Gregory chuckled light-heartedly, "I knew it."

"You did not," Draco argued.

"Yeah, I did," Gregory laughed, "I've known for sometime. She's liked him since Valentine's Day."

"How do you know?" Draco snapped.

"I guessed and she told me. It really wasn't that hard to notice."

"Yeah, if you're obsessed with her."

"I'm obsessed," Gregory admitted.

"So, this whole time I've been trying to get her attention, she's been with him?" Jake asked.

"Yep," Gregory chuckled.

Jake's shock turned to horror. "I was trying to steal the Master's girl! I bet he noticed. I bet he'll get me back."

Gregory cackled, "You're dead, mate!"

Jake whimpered, "I didn't know! I thought she was available. She should have told us."

"She's telling us now," Phil pointed out.

Suddenly Crabbe burst into laughter.

"What's funny, Crabbe?" Jake snapped.

"It's so ironic," Crabbe snickered, "All she does is torment him, so he's practically the only one not pursuing her, and yet they end up together. They are complete opposites and she could have had anyone, but she chooses him."

"That's Bobbi for ya," Draco drawled.

Back at the other table, Bobbi asked, "So now that we've gone public, do I still get to bother you at random?"

"Would you change if I said no?"

"Probably not," Bobbi laughed. "_Riddle_ me this," she giggled, "What should I call you in public?"

"Anything you want, you embarrassing little genius. But be warned, I will call you anything I want as well."

"Volders!"

"Bob!"

At this name, Bobbi turned a serious, pouting face on him, "That's not very nice. You can help your name; I can't." But then she smiled and laughed, "I'm just kidding."

"Bobbi-Wobbi-Doddy-Kins."

Bobbi cackled, "That's terrible!"

"Have you heard _your _names? Those are much worse. And there are more."

"Well, I am brilliant," Bobbi joked. She laid her head on his shoulder, "Things are gonna be much different now."

"It won't matter as long as we're together," Voldemort reassured, kissing her forehead.

…

At lunch they sat together at that empty table again. Halfway through, Gregory stood up and left his table to join theirs. Bobbi smiled at his arrival and Voldemort seemed not to mind. The other boys looked at him enviously. Decidedly, Phil and Mel stood and joined them also. Then across the room, Snape stood and joined their table. The couple seemed to welcome the company. After a momentary pause, the rest of the boys joined the table. It was crowded now and everyone kept bumping elbows.

"We're gonna need a bigger table," Bobbi declared happily.

Somehow, Jake had been seated directly across from Voldemort. Grinning evilly, Voldemort said, "Why, hello Jake."

With a frightened look, Jake said, "Sir, I swear I didn't know she was yours."

Bobbi and Voldemort chuckled maliciously together. Then Bobbi said, "Don't worry, Jake. He's only messing with you. He's really just a big softie."

"Hush up, child," Voldemort shoved her.

"Why, Volders?" she pressed.

"Because, Billy-Bob," he answered.

"Oh, that was dirty," she snickered.

"I could do better if you had more of a name," Voldemort said, "That reminds me; I don't know your last name."

"I don't have one," Bobbi said dismissively.

"You don't?" Draco asked, "Then how do I know you're my cousin?"

"Ancestry," Bobbi answered simply.

"Exactly what degree of cousins are you two?" Phil asked.

"Well, my dad's mom was a Black, so we're distant but not too distant. We're far enough apart that we could legally marry."

"Like I would ever marry you," Draco sneered.

"I wasn't proposing anything," Bobbi retorted.

"What is your last name?" Draco persisted.

"What does it matter?" Bobbi evaded.

"Come on, tell us," Jake joined in.

"No!" Bobbi made to leave, but several of the boys pulled her back down. She struggled ineffectively, then threatened, "Don't make me bite you."

A couple of the hands released her, but Gregory and Draco still held on. Bobbi whacked Draco's arm hard and he let go. But Gregory wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, and no matter how hard she struggled to get free, he would not let go. She tripped over the bench and they fell to the floor.

"Help me!" Gregory laughed.

The other boys jumped up and piled on top of her. Laughing, Bobbi struggled to get free.

"Tell us your last name," Gregory demanded.

"Never!" She squirmed and wriggled, but they were too heavy to escape. "Fine, fine; I'll tell you. But get off me first."

Most of the boys obeyed, but Draco and Gregory insisted on each holding an arm. They all stood up. Bobbi rolled her eyes and sighed, "It's Re."

"Re?"

"Yeah, Re. It means king. Got a problem with that? I'm Bobbi Re, King Bobbi."

"King Bobbi!" Blaise cackled. Bobbi glared dangerously at him and instantly he grew donkey ears and his laughter turned into donkey neighs. When everyone started pointing and laughing at him, he became confused. Draco handed him a mirror. He gasped and ran his hand along his furry, new ears. He pulled out his wand and tried to remove them. "They won't come off!"

"Not until next week," Bobbi clarified. She turned to the others, "Anyone else?" The boys shook their heads and Bobbi smiled. "Good. Now let's eat." They continued with their meal.

At dinner, the same group sat at Bobbi's original table. This became their permanent table.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading to the end. Please R&R! It would make my day. More to come soon, so be patient with me.**


	7. Meeting the Family

_Disclaimer: If you even think for a minute that I own Harry Potter, then you're more delusional than Luna Lovegood! And you can't get away with it like she can!_

**A/N: I love Luna. I just needed a base for comparison. Enjoy my story! Oh, and remember: this is my story, and I will twist the characters if I darn well please! PS: you can read the italicized portion of this chapter.**

* * *

With their relationship now public knowledge, Bobbi and Voldemort did not have to sneak around anymore. Bobbi continued to harass Voldemort and he continued to scold her for it, except now they would hug or act otherwise affectionately afterward. At first it had made many Death Eaters queasy to look at them together and had also provoked Bobbi's drinking problem (for a week, she would gargle with Vodka every time immediately after he kissed her in public), but these things quickly passed and now most were comfortable enough with it to jokingly tell them to get a room. But even with the Dark Lord having a sweet, fun-loving girlfriend, all the Death Eaters still respected and feared him and followed his orders.

One night, Bobbi and Voldemort were discussing this. "I think they respect you more now that we're together," Bobbi suggested.

"Why is that?" Voldemort smiled.

"Because they know what I would do to them if they disrespected you," Bobbi answered.

"What would you do?" Voldemort insisted.

"Much worse than I ever have."

Voldemort chuckled. "I love it when you think evilly. Clever, manipulative child."

"I could never be quite as evil as you, Voldie-poo." Bobbi smiled, leaning forward.

"Oh, you can be very evil, my little Italian bat."

Bobbi giggled as Voldemort kissed her nose. There was a sudden rapping on the door that startled them into leaning away. Voldemort groaned. "What is it?" he barked.

"A letter for Miss Bobbi," replied Wormtail.

"Bring it in," ordered Bobbi as she stood.

With a pop, Wormtail appeared. He handed her the letter, bowed, and then quit the room. Bobbi sat down in Voldemort's lap and stared curiously at the letter. She opened it and squealed when she saw the names. Interested, Voldemort peered over her shoulder and read along.

_Dear Bobbi,_

_How is Britain? Everything okay? Things are great here in America, even though you insist that it's boring. As you know, it will soon be Stella's birthday and she is just dying to see you again. Your father misses you, too. He says hi and to tell you that he loves you. Anyways, I trust that you will be here next week for Stella's party. In fact, I took the liberty of buying you plane tickets. They're first class since I know you love to flirt with those cute, male assistants that bring you peanuts and wine. I don't care what you say; magical travel between Britain and America is not nearly as safe as muggle. Stella says to invite a friend if you'd like. I will remind you, however, not to bring a snack. Eat before you leave so you won't be hungry when you get here. It should hold you for your entire stay here (two (2) weeks). We look forward to seeing you soon._

_- Ryan, Stella, and Dad_

"Who are Ryan and Stella?" Voldemort asked, although he probably already knew.

"Stella is my daughter and Ryan is my ex. We're still friends, you see."

"You're going to leave me?"

"Only for two weeks. You can come, too."

"You know I can't. The others are so incompetent without me. And I would stick out like a sore thumb."

"I know a spell that can change your appearance," Bobbi volunteered.

"I know it, too," Voldemort informed her. He stroked her hair, a frown crossing his lips.

"You'll be okay without me for a couple of weeks. It's not like you haven't done that before." His frown still remained, so Bobbi tried another tactic. She patted his head and chimed, "Who loves you, Volders?"

His frown began to fade. "You do."

Bobbi smiled and kissed him lightly. "And don't you forget it." Bobbi folded the letter and set it aside. She turned towards him and gently stroked his face. "Where were we?"

* * *

A few days later, Voldemort and Bobbi were at the muggle airport, saying their farewells.

"I'll miss you," Voldemort whispered in her ear as they embraced tightly. Voldemort had changed his appearance so that he had short, spiky, light brown hair, grayish-blue eyes, and a normal-looking, 25-year-old man's face.

"I'll only be gone for 2 weeks, I swear," Bobbi promised, hugging him tightly back. Then an overhead voice announced that her plane was leaving. With one last kiss, they broke apart and Bobbi hurried onto her plane with her single carry-on bag.

Voldemort stayed to watch her plane leave, then departed to return home.

* * *

Things at the Lair were dull and uneventful with Bobbi gone. Everything seemed to be darker, less lively. Conversation was at a minimum. The Death Eaters devised their plans with obvious, simple strategies.

Voldemort was having evil-genius's block. He remembered a time when this had happened to him before:

'Voldemort was staring down at a blank sheet of parchment, quill in one hand, drumming his fingers irritably with the other. Bobbi skipped into the room and upon seeing him, walked cheerfully up to him. "What's wrong, Moldy-Voldy-face? Evil-genius's block?"

"Shut up, Bobbi," he grumbled (this had been before they liked each other) "I'm trying to concentrate."

Bobbi sat down in a seat beside him. She looked around, whispered, "Accio," and brought forth a light bulb. She then made it hover above his head and with a snap of her finger, it lit up. She smiled childishly.

Voldemort turned a glare on her.

"What?" she threw up her hands, "I thought I was helping."'

Voldemort chuckled at this memory then sighed. Three days and he was already missing her. He glanced to his left where Snape was fiddling with some potion ingredients. "Snape."

"Yes, Master?" he answered, preoccupied.

"If I left for awhile - just a few days - do you think they could manage?"

"I'm sure we could, Sir," Snape replied, "Things are slow and easy-going. Nothing too big would happen that we couldn't manage without you present."

"Then it's settled," Voldemort declared, slamming his fist down. He stood up and Apperated to his room to pack.

* * *

In America… Bobbi was sitting on her bed in some old pajamas she had left in the house when she had moved. Currently, she was attempting to compose a letter to send to Voldemort. She chewed softly on her lip and glared at the paper. _Maybe if I glare hard enough, the words will write themselves_, she thought jokingly. Just then, there was a knock on her door. "Who is it?" she called.

"You-Know-Who!" the familiar voice rang.

Bobbi laughed disbelievingly as she stood to answer the door, "Ryan, you are so mean. I trust you with a few secrets, and you immediately use them against me! I'll never -" but she stopped as she saw the man standing in her doorway. He was tall with light brown hair and murky, stormy eyes.

He grinned at her. "Ryan, eh?"

She giggled embarrassedly, "Sorry 'bout that. You sound like Ryan through the door."

"I'm certainly not Ryan," he teased.

"No, you're not." She smiled up at him, then backed up and said, "Come in."

Voldemort walked awkwardly into the extremely pink, incredibly girly bedroom. Bobbi closed the door behind him and locked it with a charm.

"You better take that charm off, young lady," her father bellowed up the stairs.

"Dad!" she yelled back, exasperated. She turned to grin sheepishly at her love, "Sorry 'bout him."

"That's okay." He glanced quickly around the room, hands in jeans pockets. "It's so… pink. Like a little girl."

"Don't make fun of me," she said, "I never stay long enough to change it." She took a second to analyze him, "I've never seen you wear street clothes before. You look… weird."

He laughed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and spreading them. She skipped into his arms and wrapped her own around him. "I've missed you, Tom."

"I've missed you too, Bobbi." He kissed her hair lightly, then lifted her chin and kissed her lips tenderly. After a minute, he pulled back a little. "What would your dad say if I stayed?" he whispered.

"He wouldn't," Bobbi whispered back, "We're both vampires. We know what we do."

"I'll interpret that to mean he won't care."

"You'd be right."

* * *

The next morning, Voldemort woke up to the smell of bacon and biscuits. The bed beside him was empty. _She must already be up._ Slowly, he pulled on his jeans and descended the carpeted stairs. As he entered the den, the smell grew thicker. He walked quietly into the kitchen.

Bobbi was at the stove. Without turning, she said, "Good morning, Tom." She continued her cooking for about a minute, then switched the stove off and spun to greet him. Her warm smile quickly turned amused. "Please wear your other face while we have company."

Confused, Voldemort turned to look into a wall mirror. Then he realized the appearance-changing spell had worn off during his sleep. He took out his wand and swiftly renewed it. Then he turned back to face her, but she was gone. He turned again and caught sight of her in the dining room, setting food down on he table. He walked calmly up to her and embraced her. "Morning, Bobbi," he spoke with a kiss.

"Morning, Tom," she smiled back.

"Who else will be joining us?"

"Just Stella and Ryan. Dad doesn't eat breakfast with us." At that moment, the doorbell rang. Bobbi pulled away to answer it, but glanced back first and said, "Go put a shirt on." She let him hurry up the stairs and then answered the door.

"Mommy!" Voldemort heard a small child cry as the door opened. When he returned, he saw that everyone was waiting in the living room for him. Bobbi was holding a little girl, roughly ten years old, balancing her on her hip.

As he entered the room, an adult man approached him. Shaking his hand firmly, the man said, "Hi, I'm Ryan."

"I'm Tom," Voldemort replied smoothly.

Ryan was a tall fellow with sandy-blonde hair and a bright smile. He looked to be in his late 30's. Ryan turned to Bobbi and joked, "You pick 'em kinda young, don't ya?"

Bobbi chuckled. "He's older than he looks. But it has to be believable or else people would get suspicious."

"I'm sure you don't look a bit suspicious, returning every year looking exactly the same."

"Anyone who would notice that most likely already knows why."

"Mommy, I'm hungry," the child said.

"Of course, Stella. Let's eat."

The four of them entered the dining room and sat down at the table. Stella sat beside Bobbi, Bobbi sat across from Tom, and Tom sat beside Ryan. They ate, talking casually.

"So, what do you do for a living, Tom?" Ryan asked.

"Tom's a professor," Bobbi supplied.

"Really? Do you teach at Hogwarts? What do you teach?" Ryan bombarded.

"I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts," Voldemort answered. He gazed fondly at Bobbi, "Bobbi is my best student. Unfortunately, we don't allow her to practice with the other pupils anymore."

Ryan laughed knowingly. "I remember going to school with her, too. She always was the most advanced in dueling. And she played rough."

"That's me," Bobbi giggled.

"So, how did you two met?" Ryan continued.

"I am in his class," Bobbi explained.

"How did you manage to get off work for however long you are staying here?" Ryan pushed.

"A close friend of mine agreed to take my place in my absence." Then Voldemort asked Ryan a question, "How long have you known my Bobbi?"

"Well, when I was 15, Bobbi joined our school. It was a boarding school, too, one of the few in America for wizards and witches. We were friends throughout our time there. Then when we graduated, we went our separate ways. A few years later, we met again and got closer. Then one day, her father and I were talking about how she needed to pass on her rare gene to an heir, and I told him that I would love to have a kid. So he arranged our marriage -"

"Didn't even tell me," Bobbi inserted.

"and we had precious Stella over here." He smiled lovingly at his daughter.

"You know the rest," Bobbi said.

"So, we've known each other for about 20 years," Ryan answered, then added, "And I still don't understand her."

"I'm at least a decade older than you. You'll never fully understand me," Bobbi explained.

"I'll understand you, Mommy," Stella said innocently.

"Of course you will, bella Stella," Bobbi smiled, kissing her daughter's forehead.

After breakfast, Ryan and Bobbi were doing the dishes. "He doesn't know I know, does he?" Ryan asked.

"No. But don't tell him. Keep pretending, okay? And don't tell Stella. Who knows who that child will tell?"

"I know," Ryan answered.

"Don't start," Bobbi said, putting the cleaned dishes away.

"I don't know why you won't use magic to clean these," Ryan redirected.

Bobbi laughed. "There are so few to clean, it's hardly worth the effort to be lazy."

Ryan chuckled. "That never made sense and it never will." Then he added, "You sure don't act like a Muggle-hater."

"I do hate Muggles. But that doesn't mean I won't do certain things that they do. It's impossible to be entirely different."

"You sure don't make it look impossible."

"I do what I can," Bobbi shrugged. She dried her hands and turned to stare into the living room. She watched as Stella played aimlessly with Voldemort, jabbering at a speed not humanly possible. Voldemort smiled and nodded his head, playing along.

Ryan leaned against the counter and watched them with her. He tilted his head towards her and whispered, "Did I just see the Dark Lord laughing?"

"She is my daughter," Bobbi explained.

"I assume you can make him laugh also."

"And squeal," she bragged.

"You lie," Ryan chuckled.

"Yeah, you're right. I haven't made him squeal," she smiled evilly, "Yet."

"You're terribly manipulative."

"Some men find that attractive."

Stella pulled herself into Voldemort's lap, perching on one of his legs. She laid her head against his chest and began to sing a song. Voldemort looked a little shocked, but that quickly passed. Then he looked up and summoned Bobbi with a finger.

Bobbi shook her head, but obediently went to him. "Mommy!" Stella called, reaching her hands up as Bobbi approached. In one flowing motion, Bobbi had her child cradled in her arms. "You're getting too big for this," Bobbi exclaimed.

"I'll be ten Tuesday," Stella chimed.

"Will you?" Voldemort asked.

"Yeah. It's my birthday. And I'll have a big party with all my friends," she waved her arms animatedly, then added, "Will you be there, Mr. Tom?"

"That's in three days. I guess I will."

"Yay!" Stella clapped her hands.

Mr. Tom laughed. "You are much like your mother." He smiled lovingly at Bobbi.

* * *

One night after Stella's birthday, Bobbi and Voldemort were laying together in her pink, fluffy, girly, over-stuffed full bed, talking about the future. It was late and the only light came from the street lamp outside the window. As they talked, Bobbi ran her fingers through his artificial hair. "It feels so weird," she commented, "Like I'm cheating on you because you look different. It's just… weird."

Voldemort chuckled, then asked, "How does this make you feel?" And he kissed her.

"Safe," she answered with a smile. A sudden distracted look crossed her face, then she laughed and shook her head.

"What?" Voldemort asked curiously.

"I was just wondering if you were ticklish." She looked at him evilly.

"Oh, no," he exclaimed in half-horror.

"Oh, yes," she grinned, then began tickling him.

He shrieked briefly and tried to fight her off. But before he could stop her, she had found his tickle spot, and when she touched it, he squealed and jerked defensively away. This motion caused him to fall off the bed, the sight of which caused Bobbi to burst into loud laughter. Partially indignant, Voldemort sat up and exclaimed, "It's not funny!"

"Yes, it is!" she disagreed, cackling madly.

"Oh, you're gonna get it, little girl," Voldemort threatened, picking up one of her many pink pillows. He stood and knocked her over with it.

Still laughing, she picked up another and hit him in the side with it. They continued, laughing, with their pillow fight, until Bobbi's dad called up the stairs, "What are you two doing? That is way too loud for just sex!"

Shocked and slightly embarrassed, they stopped and turned to look at the door. "Sorry!" Bobbi yelled at the door.

"Would you like me to leave?"

"No, no! We'll go to sleep, Dad. Promise."

"Just don't make so much noise."

Obediently, Voldemort put down the pillow and climbed back into bed. Bobbi scooted back to her own side. She looked at him, cheeks flaming, and giggled, "Sorry."

"It's okay. That was fun," he assured.

"I guess we have to go to bed now." Calmer, they snuggled back together and relaxed. Then Bobbi chuckled, "I can't believe you squealed. And shrieked."

"Shut up. That never leaves this house."

"Yes, Master," she smiled, laying her head on his chest and closing her eyes.

But as they were drifting out of consciousness, a loud tapping came from the window. Voldemort groaned as he unwillingly left the bed. He opened the window and an owl flew in. He took the note in it's beak and it flew off. After shutting the window and curtains, Voldemort sat down on the side of the bed, turned on a light, and read the note. Bobbi looked over his shoulder and read along. Finishing it, they groaned simultaneously.

"I don't want you to leave yet," Bobbi pouted, crossing her arms.

"I don't want to either, but they need me down at Headquarters and I have to go."

"We only had a few more days. Why couldn't it wait?"

"Doesn't matter. You are not coming. I want you to stay here where it's safe until I tell you it's safe to come back," he commanded sternly.

"Oh, come on. I won't be in anymore danger than I usually am."

"I gave you an order."

"But Volders!"

"Bobbi," Voldemort held her shoulders and looked her seriously in the eyes, "For once in your life, please do what I say. These people are dangerous and smart. They _will_ hurt you to get to me. Luckily, they don't know what you look like yet. But if you and I come back together, they will know, and they will do everything in their power to hurt you. Please trust me when I tell you to stay."

Bobbi chewed her lip, deliberating. She looked like she might cry. "Okay," she whispered, bowing her head.

Voldemort pulled her chin up gently. Silent tears were cascading down her cheeks. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm afraid for you, afraid for the others in England. If it's too dangerous for me, then surely it's too dangerous for everyone else. I've got armor and more years of experience," she shook her head and sighed a laugh, "I guess I'm not as cold as I say I am."

"You don't need to worry about me," Voldemort assured, "I've got a secret that protects me."

"You do?" she asked hopefully, wiping away her tears.

"Yes. I can't be killed. I'm immortal, just like you. But also like you, I can be hurt and tortured. I know what kind of pain the enemy can inflict, and that is why I need you to stay where it's safe. Will you promise that you'll stay here until I call you home?"

"I promise," Bobbi said.

Voldemort smiled and pulled her into his lap. "Everything will be okay soon, I promise." He hugged her lovingly.

* * *

**A/N: Yes! Finally I can leave it at a cliffhanger! Now you'll have to read the next chapter if you want to know what happens. And I guarantee it will be a chapter to die for. Tune in next time for Chapter 8 of "Excessive Misbehavior!" Oh, and please leave a review.**


	8. Not Even Bobbi

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own Bobbi, Stella, Ryan, Dad, Mel, Phil, and Jake._

**A/N: And now the chapter that you've been waiting for!**

* * *

Voldemort stared anxiously at the airline boards. He tapped his foot impatiently. "It should be here by now."

"I can't believe how long it's been," declared Gregory, who had insisted upon coming with his master to welcome Bobbi back, even if it meant having to watch them make out. "It's been at least a month. You think she'll be excited to see us?"

"Of course she will," Voldemort answered confidently, "I just hope she'll be able to find us, what with these disguises on." He pulled his fingers through his unfamiliar hair. "She might recognize me," he added, "She's seen me with this face before. But you'll probably have to tell her who you are."

"Nervous?" Gregory suspected.

"A little," he admitted, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box. He opened it and Gregory whistled at the huge rock.

"That's a beauty, Master. She will be pleased, I'm sure of it."

Smiling, he closed the box and hid it back in his pocket.

Half an hour later, the plane still had not arrived. Frustrated, Gregory and Voldemort walked up to the assistance counter and asked the woman at the desk about Bobbi's plane.

"Oh," she chirped, "Did you have a friend on that plane?"

"His fiancée," Gregory clarified.

Rolling his eyes, Voldemort pulled out the ring and showed it to the woman. She gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. Then she began to sob.

"What's wrong?" Gregory asked, but the woman shook her head and ran away. Another assistant, this one a man, took her place immediately and with a sullen face informed them, "That flight isn't coming in. There was an accident in the air. Two passenger planes collided head first. There were no survivors. The remains landed in the ocean. I am terribly sorry, sirs."

Voldemort's mouth fell open. He stared blankly at the man with the most pained expression on his face.

"Th-that can't be true," Gregory stammered.

"I'm sorry," was all the man could say.

Voldemort sank to his knees. He stared with that same anguished look. Out of sympathy, Gregory took his arm and Apperated them back to Headquarters. Without thinking, he Apperated them into Bobbi's room. In the security of this private place, Voldemort broke down and cried. Respectfully, Gregory left him. He walked sluggishly down the dark, lonely hall and pushed open the Dining Hall doors.

"Surprise!" yelled the entire Lair. But upon seeing Gregory, their smiles dropped. "Where is Bobbi?" several asked.

"She's not coming back," Gregory mumbled morbidly.

"Why not?" those who heard asked.

"Because she's dead," Gregory muttered, turning away.

"What do you mean she's dead?" Jake cried.

"She's dead!" Gregory shouted, "What don't you understand about dead?"

"She's dead?" many others cried.

"How?" Jake pushed.

"She was in a plane crash. The planes exploded. Not even she can survive that." Gregory turned and trudged down the hall.

* * *

In the days that followed, the Lair seemed darker than ever. No one had smiled since the news of Bobbi's death. Lord Voldemort paid the biggest toll. He became completely reserved and refused to leave his room. He would barely eat and only if it was brought to his room. He did not talk to anyone. And to top it all off, he was being subjected to suicide watch.

Late one night, Voldemort was sleeping when suddenly he heard singing, "Round, round, get around, I get around!" His eyes flew open. "Bobbi?" he gasped.

Pop. "Master?" asked Draco, suddenly appearing in the darkness.

"Just a dream," Voldemort whispered.

"You need anything, Master?"

Voldemort glared at him and he left. Weakly, Voldemort pulled that pink sweater Bobbi had knitted him for Christmas out of his pillowcase and buried his face in it. _'It's pathetic that this childish prank can comfort you,'_ a voice in his head told him. _Bobbi made this for me. It's one of the few things I have left of her,_ he reasoned against the voice. _'Nonetheless, it is pathetic. You were the greatest wizard alive. Your name alone frightens even the toughest wizards. How could you turn so soft?'_ the voice taunted. _Bobbi had a special charm to her. Not even that homosexual Dumbledore would have been able to resist her,_ he countered. _'But you are stronger than Dumbledore. You put so much effort into preserving your life, did things he wouldn't dare dream of. You sacrificed everything to get to where you are. Yet you are so willing to throw it all away and lose your life just for a girl who is already dead!'_ the voice roared angrily. _Bobbi wasn't just a girl,_ he argued, _She was my heart. Without her I have no heart, no reason for living. So what if I am Supreme Ruler? There is no joy in being alone._

Voldemort laid silently, motionlessly, in his bed, planning his next course of action. He stood up after a moment and walked unsteadily to his Pensive. It was time to take a swim in his reveries.

He landed in the rain a few feet from a kissing couple. He watched as the girl wrapped her arms around the man's neck. Voldemort glared enviously at the man in black, then longingly at the girl in the red tube dress. Why had he decided to subject himself to such torture? What could be gained by staring at something he could not have? _Just pouring salt in the wound,_ he scolded himself. He turned away and left the memory.

Back in his room, Voldemort flopped carelessly onto the bed. He stared at the empty corner where the fern had resided for about two weeks. Another memory popped into his head:

-- Voldemort was sitting hunched over his desk when Bobbi suddenly popped in. She took one look at the dead fern and screeched, "You let it die!" Once she had his attention, she continued in a lower voice, "Are you gonna let us die? You should think about that." Before he could question her sanity, she had taken the fern and left. --

Now it seemed like such a vital memory, one he had to cling to, for now all he had left of her were the memories, even the most ridiculous, stupid, annoying memories. _There had been no 'us' back then,_ he recalled, _Perhaps she knew, even before I said yes, that we would fall in love and be together._ _'Or maybe she was just being annoying as usual.' Don't ruin my memories of her_, he argued with the voice.

He tried again to formulate plans for the future, but kept dwelling on a particular thought that was tearing at him. The letter. _If only I hadn't made Snape write that stupid letter telling me I needed to go home, Bobbi would still be alive. How stupid! I should have stayed with her. I shouldn't have made up a stupid excuse so that I could go home, buy the ring, and propose to her at the airport when she got back. How was I to know I would get cold feet and take a month to convince myself I was ready for this? How was I to know that that exact day there would be a plane crash? How was I to know it would be Bobbi's plane that crashed? How was I to know that delaying her return would utterly destroy our lives? Stupid, stupid, stupid! And now it's too late. Now that I know I love her, it's too late. How stupid I am! I've ruined everything. I've killed the only person I ever loved and the only person who ever loved me._

…

After a fitful nap, he tried again to formulate plans for his future. _With Bobbi gone, there is no reason to continue. I am losing the respect of my followers, and everyday I waste in here, I lose a bit more. So there are only two paths I may take: get over her quickly and continue on with my life, forgetting her like she never existed; or I could end my misery and kill myself. Neither are very likely. I almost absolutely cannot forget her fast enough to get back all the respect of my Death Eaters. On the other hand, I would have to destroy all those Horcruxes before I could really die. That would take too long and too much effort. _He pondered his options, then thought, _I could tell that Potter boy where to find them. He wouldn't take nearly as long to destroy them as I alone would. He has followers that want me dead and would immediately join in to help._ Then the voice roared, _'But that would be losing! How can you lose to him _again_? You would be the most mocked wizard in history! Everyone would laugh at your name rather than tremble!'_ He replied coldly, _Doesn't matter because I'll be dead. I won't have to feel the pain anymore._ Closing his eyes, Voldemort fell asleep, knowing that it would all be over soon.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, so maybe it wasn't the chapter you've all been waiting for, but it was going to be. Tune in to the next chapter to find out what Voldemort does about this. I guarantee you won't wanna miss it.**


	9. FINALLY!

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I am much too young to have been able to have written it._

**A/N: This will be short just like the last one.**

* * *

The next afternoon, Voldemort Apperated himself out of the Lair and onto that deserted plain. It was raining, sleeting almost. The weather reflected his mood nearly perfectly. The sun could not be seen through the thick storm clouds. It provided an eerie, gray light.

Voldemort looked down at his hand where a few black scribbles told him the location of a recently discovered enemy camp. Sucking in a deep breath, he continued his journey to self-destruction.

At long last, he stopped on a hill where down below camped his enemies. He stared down at them. _Should I just wait here until they find me? Should I make a racket or run through the camp shouting so they notice me? When they do come for me, should I fight or just give up immediately? Maybe I should streak through the camp. That sounds like something Bobbi would suggest. Oh, Bobbi!_

As he was deliberating, a familiar voice called to him, "_Riddle_ me this."

He turned, shocked at the voice, but saw nothing. _Must be another hallucination._

But the voice came again, closer and behind him now, "What's a man like you doing in a place like this?"

Again Voldemort turned, and again found nothing. Aloud he asked, "Am I going insane or is someone there?"

"You're not going insane," the voice answered yet did not reveal itself. "Or maybe you are. Why would the Dark Lord Voldemort stand alone in the rain in front of his enemies' residence? Come to taunt Death?"

"I will gladly welcome Death," he answered hostilely.

"Why? What has happened?"

Despite the hatred he felt toward the voice for taunting him, he truthfully answered, "Bobbi."

"Bobbi is causing you to kill yourself. This must be some evil entity. What has this Bobbi done to provoke such terror?"

"It is not what she did that drives me to suicide. It is what she didn't do."

"What did she not do?"

"Return. She did not come back to me."

"Why not?"

"She died. In a plane crash."

"Why is her death of importance to you?"

"Because I love her!"

"The Dark Lord can love?"

"Only one person, and she's dead now."

"What would you do to have her back?"

"Anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes."

"Even self-terminate?"

Voldemort closed his eyes and opened them, an old fire igniting in them. "I would kill myself and bring myself back and kill myself again if that was what it took. I would do anything."

There was a brief pause. Then the voice spoke, "Now the question is: would she do the same for you?"

Voldemort thought back to the Easter eggs. Bobbi said she would do anything for him if he spent time with her to paint the eggs. She said anything - except self-terminate. He thought it odd that this demonic voice would use the same phrase Bobbi had. Of course, this was all in his head. "She once said that she would do anything for me if I helped her with something, anything except self-terminate," he informed the voice, "She promised me that deal. I held up my end. She never did hold up her own."

"Did you ask?" the voice inquired.

Voldemort thought for a moment. "No."

"Ask," suggested the voice.

"What good will that do?" he snapped, but the voice did not reply. Voldemort felt stupid and alone. But the voice was right. Bobbi still owed him that favor, and even though she was dead, it could not hurt any worse to ask. So Voldemort closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "Bobbi, you know you owe me from Easter-Christmas. Come back. You said you would do anything I asked and now I'm asking you to come back to me. Will you please come back? Please. Come back alive." He held his eyes shut and listened, but did not hear anything. Now he felt really stupid, and the reminder of Bobbi tore at his already shredded heart. The last ribbon of hope had been cut, and now he longed desperately for the pain to end, for Harry Potter to hurry up and kill him already. The pain was unbearable.

"Tom?" came a soft, angelic voice.

He opened his eyes at the sound. A few meters in front of him, standing soaked in the pouring rain, was Bobbi.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Are you still going to kill yourself?"

"No," he whispered.

"Why not?" she pushed.

"Because you live."

She smiled her wonderful, dazzling smile and sprinted the short distance to him. Her lips met his hungrily. They pressed together until they almost could not breathe. He felt her stop for a brief moment, then continue, rubbing her hand around his head. Suddenly he felt warmer.

They were interrupted by a shout. They pulled away, shocked, to stare at a large man who had come up from the camp below. "What are you two doing?"

"Sorry," Bobbi giggled in a British accent, "We are just so in love."

"I see that. Run along, young ones. This is no place for lovers like you."

"Yes, sir." Bobbi took Voldemort's hand, "Come, Timmy. We should leave."

Obedient yet confused, Voldemort followed after Bobbi. When they were far enough out of sight, they Apperated to the barren field. Once there, they embraced in a long, heartfelt hug. "Why did he not recognize me?" Voldemort asked.

"I heard him coming and cast the appearance-changing spell on you before he could see who you really were."

Voldemort smiled. He squeezed her hand. "I love you," he said with a kiss.

"I love you too, Tom," she smiled.

Beaming, Voldemort dropped to one knee and pulled out the velvet box. "Will you marry me?"

Bobbi clapped her hands to her mouth and tears brimmed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I already accepted Harry's ring -" Okay, you all know I'm just pulling your legs.

She really said, "Oh, Tom! Of course!"

Tom took the ring and slid it onto her finger. He then stood and embraced her. He kissed her forehead, kissed her nose, kissed each glistening cheek, and finally tenderly kissed her waiting lips. She held him tightly like she would never let go.

"You found me," Voldemort whispered, "How did you know just where I would be?"

"I let my heart guide me," she confided. Then she shivered, flinging water. "I'm soaked."

Tom hugged her warmly against him. He whispered, "Would you like to return home?"

"Yes," she answered. "How did the others get along without me?"

"They were much stronger than I."

"You will be the strongest again when we return," she promised.

"Because you live," he added.

They Apperated to the Lair. Bobbi took the appearance-changing spell off and they proceeded to enter. Once inside, they were immediately welcomed by anxious and excited Death Eaters. Many crowded around them, each trying to hug Bobbi.

"Ah, good," Snape said in his monotone upon seeing them, "You brought the Master home." He remained a safe distance from the mob.

"Hello, Mr. Snape. Nice to see you again," Bobbi replied.

"I can see you've been enjoying the weather," he observed.

"Yes. It's quite lovely out today."

"I see a ring!" exclaimed Mel.

Bobbi smiled and held up her left hand for them to see.

Immediately, Voldemort called for a feast to welcome back their Dark Goddess. The Dining Hall pulsated with happy chatter, all eyes on the Heart of the Death Eaters. Bobbi, in all her glorious radiance, was once again in the center of attention, where she belonged.

* * *

Later that night, Bobbi met with Voldemort in his private study to talk about what she had learned while she was allegedly dead. She told him of her time in St. Mungo's where she met and conversed with a rebel who knew of Harry Potter's whereabouts. After lots of talking, Bobbi had managed to trick him into revealing the location to her.

"So," she concluded, "At least nearly dying wasn't a total waste."

"This information will do for your apology to me," Tom chuckled.

"Apology?" Bobbi asked.

"For putting me through all that pain. I thought you were dead! I nearly _killed_ myself! In fact, I think you owe me a greater apology." Tom crossed him arms.

Bobbi smiled mischievously, uncrossing her legs and leaning towards him across the table. In a low, enticing voice she said, "Oh, dear Lord Voldemort, I have sinned against you. How can I ever make it up to you?" She flashed her eyes insinuatingly at him.

Tom caught her hint. Smiling, he said, "Well, I can think of a few things."

* * *

**A/N: Alright, **_**this**_** was the chapter you have been waiting for. Doesn't Death make things so much more romantic?! Leave a review and I promise I'll write more soon. That's right. I'm going to continue the story. It's not even half over yet.**


	10. Nice Day For a Dark Wedding

_Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter themes/characters mentioned or used. I do, however, own a cat._

**A/N: We now return to the second half of "Excessive Misbehavior."**

* * *

It was not yet 5 a.m., and Voldemort's room was still dark. There was an unusual, warm serenity in the atmosphere. Presently, Bobbi was awake, laying next to her sleeping fiancé in his bed. She was staring at her ring and toying with several possible titles for her soon-to-be position.

_Regina Bobbi. Regina Bobbi Re,_ she thought to herself, shaking her head in frustration, _Too bland. It needs something. Regina del Mondo. A little better. Regina del Mondo Bobbi Re. Ick! That's too much. How does he do it? Voldemort. Where did he get that? Did he, like, misread a Wal-Mart sign or something? Maybe it was a German Wal-Mart. I'll have to ask later._ She turned as carefully as she could, as to not wake him. He was so peaceful when he slept. She gazed upon his pale, happy face, and the sight of him made her smile. He was so weak compared to her. That plane crash had not killed her. It could not. She was immortal, no matter what anyone said. But him? Bobbi did not believe what he had said about having a secret that protected him. Even if it was true, it could not come near to how terribly immortal she was. Nothing could kill her except the Hand of God itself. She had told Tom that she had seen the other plane about to hit her and that she had Apperated out of the aircraft just before the planes collided. She had told him that she had not returned immediately because she had been in St. Mungo's receiving treatment for the damages she had obtained when she landed in the water miles below. She had told him that she met the rebel and procured information from him while at St. Mungo's. She had lied. She never had really went to St. Mungo's because she did not need medical attention. She had not fled the airplane before it exploded, either. She had been in the explosion. She had seen everything happen as it took place around her. She had been in that airplane. But it had not harmed her one bit. It was actually rather exciting, sitting in an explosion as it happened. But she was immortal, and all she had felt was immense heat as it passed along her skin. It had burned her clothes off, and she had fallen naked through the sky, landing in the stormy sea. She had emerged from the water as a perfect, glimmering nymph and had swum toward land for miles. When she did reach land, she was not tired from the excursion. She was, however, somewhat chilled. The water had been frigid and the constant gusts of wind had not helped. Once on land, she had hunted down an old school colleague who might reliably know the location of Mr. Potter. Once she had gained this knowledge, she had hurried home. She knew her Death Eater family would be missing her greatly. At the time, she had not known the extent of their sadness nor that it would drive her love to suicide.

She remembered, as she thought these things, how alarmed she had been to find Voldemort at the top of the hill, alone and vulnerable to his enemy. How bewildered she had been when she beheld Tom. At first she had been confused about his reasons for being there, so she had hidden herself from him and asked him questions. She had been afraid that he had discovered that she was "fraternizing with the enemy" and was angry at her about it, though for what reason she could not explain. Then he had admitted his fatal need for her. It hurt her how much he loved her, that he was willing to take his own life for her.

She shook her head, scattering the thoughts. She loved him, but he loved her more. Sure she would risk her life for him, but she did not place her life at as high a value as he placed his. She was as positive as one could be that nothing could kill her, not even herself. A plane crash could not kill her, a broken heart could not kill her, and she could not kill herself. Harry Potter, "the Chosen-One", could not kill her; Dumbledore, "the greatest wizard ever", could not kill her (even if he wasn't already dead); and the Dark Lord Voldemort, her true love, could not kill her. But Bobbi would not tell Tom this. She wanted him to keep believing that he was the most powerful, even more so than Bobbi. She knew he already felt weak to her since she had actually driven him to suicide. She wanted his ego to heal, not get crushed further. So her complete and utter immortality would remain a secret from him. She would resort to using her lowest shield so that she could feel the pain and be able to react. She hated doing this, but for his sake, she would.

She stared once again at her ring. It looked so perfect on her finger, and yet at the same time it made her feel shackled. How could such a small rock inflict so many different emotions all at once? Again, she pondered a title, _Regina Bobbi Re. Why does that sound so wrong?_ Then it dawned on her. _Oh! I won't be Re anymore. I'll be Riddle. Regina Riddle, Ruler of the Wizarding World! That's it. Maybe I'll be She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Ha! What a terrible title. "Hello, nice to meet you. I am She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is my husband."_ Bobbi giggled to herself.

At the sudden sound, Tom stirred. He half opened his eyes to stare at her.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Bobbi whispered.

Tom smiled. "Don't worry about it." Slowly, he lifted his arm and placed it on her shoulder. As she scooted closer to him, he asked, "Why are you awake?"

"Just thinking about the future."

"The future is ours now," he said, hugging her tightly to his chest, "You don't need to worry about anything."

"I'm not worrying. I'm just speculating."

"About what?" he pushed.

She thought for a moment. "About my name. It's going to change soon."

Tom chuckled. "Mrs. Bobbi Riddle."

"Riddle me this," Bobbi began, "How did you think up the name Voldemort?"

"Well, I took the letters from my old name and I scrambled them up to make myself a new name. It took me awhile to arrange the letters into a pronounceable word."

"Hmm," Bobbi speculated, "Maybe I could do something like that. But that wouldn't be original. I need something novel, something creative and random, but that also applies to me."

"Sleep now, my little Italian bat. We have later for worrying," Tom concluded.

"Yes, My Lord," she whispered and obeyed.

* * *

One month later, Bobbi had yet to come up with a new name and was considering just leaving it Bobbi. As it was, she had bigger things on her mind that were more important, like the wedding tomorrow. Her wedding. She had initially invited her family, but after talking to Ryan and her father about it, it was decided that they would not attend for safety reasons. There was so much that could go wrong if they were discovered. So Ryan and Stella were not coming, but her dad had insisted upon giving her away, and since he was also immortal, she allowed it. Of course Tom knew. Tom approved. He just wanted her to be happy. Bobbi sighed a laugh as she thought about this. The Dark Lord getting married; her father giving her away to the Dark Lord; Voldemort vulnerable to his wife. She had really changed him. She changed lots of men. It was her duty to influence lives. It was her purpose. But she had never dealt with such a powerful man before. It was very strange to her, but not uncomfortably so. She was quite content with her choice. She dearly loved this man.

The next morning, Bobbi awoke with nervous excitement. She glanced at her clock. In a few minutes, Bellatrix and Narcissa would be knocking at her door. Then they would take her to more private quarters where they would prepare her for her wedding. Bobbi hopped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to attend to her hygiene. As she was finishing up, a knock came from her door. She opened it, but it was not who she expected. "Gregory?"

"Good morning, Bobbi," he greeted her pleasantly, then gave her a hug.

"Good morning, Gregory. What brings you here? Shouldn't you be getting ready? You are my Maid of Honor."

Gregory chuckled. "It's your special day. I'll let you call me what you want. Anyway, your fiancé sent me to see how you were. Your cousins have forbidden him from seeing you before the ceremony. They insist that it's bad luck. But he wants to know how you are."

"Tell him I'm fine and I'm excited and I can't wait to see him at the altar."

"Good. He also wanted me to give you a kiss for him."

"No he didn't!" Bobbi protested with a laugh.

Gregory chuckled, "Relax. I was kidding. Anyway, I just wanted to say congratulations. I'll go tell him what you said."

"See you at the wedding then," Bobbi said.

Gregory did not reply. As he left, he wished in vain that she could have said "See you at _our_ wedding," but it was not so. He knew that the only time he had ever hoped to hear her say that was when he would be the groom, but never some other man. _Too late now, Gregory,_ he told himself, _You should have told her that when you had the chance._

Soon after, the Black sisters came and took Bobbi to get ready.

...

As the appointed time approached, the entirety of the Lair made its way onto the chosen field away from the Lair where the wedding was to take place. It was bright and sunny, yet the breeze that blew softly was cool.

Voldemort made his way to his spot at the very front of the congregation. He stood and watched as his followers filed in and empty chairs became scarce.

"Nervous?" Gregory asked at his side.

"Somewhat. But who isn't? This is dangerous. We could be discovered. So many things could happen while we are unprepared. But Bobbi is worth the risk."

"Indeed she is," Gregory agreed, almost melancholily. Then the music began and he left to take his place.

Everyone turned to watch as Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy walked down the isle, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange. Once they had taken their places, the awaited princess began her descent down the isle, her father on her arm.

Voldemort smiled as he beheld her. Her dress was of satin, big and poofy and white with thousands of clear sequins decorating it. The white veil was held to her head by a tiara lined with hundreds of tiny, sparkling rhinestones.

Bobbi could hardly contain her excitement as she walked down the isle toward her waiting fiancé. His black tux was made of new and expensive material, and it fit him very well. Her smile widened with each step she took.

Voldemort smiled as Bobbi's father passed her hand on to his. He had awaited this moment for so long.

Vows were exchanged. They decided to go with the traditional ones.

Bobbi beamed radiantly at Voldemort as she said the binding words, "I do."

Voldemort mirrored her expression and emotions exactly as he replied, "I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Voldemort kissed Bobbi like he had never kissed anyone before, far more passionately than he thought possible of himself. All the assembled Death Eaters went, "Aw," and clapped as the newly weds descended the stairs.

Everyone stood and congratulated the two as they passed through the crowd. Then the chairs were pushed aside so that the reception could take place. It went about like most wedding receptions: there was cake and dancing and gifts, but no bouquet throwing because every female present was now married.

There was, however, the garter to consider. When it came time to take off the garter, nearly every man there gathered around the two.

"People are going to think you're really twisted, keeping so many single guys around all the time and not one single girl," Bobbi whispered to Voldemort.

"That's why I'm marrying you. To prove I'm not that twisted," he whispered back.

"Anymore," Bobbi retorted.

"I can't ever win with you, can I?"

"You always win, Master."

Voldemort got down on his knees and slowly pulled up her dress until he was all the way at the top. "Where is it?"

"Oh. Other leg," Bobbi giggled.

So Voldemort checked the other leg. "It's not here," Voldemort informed her.

"Really?" She looked down at her leg, "Oh, crap! I must have put on the invisible one by mistake."

Voldemort looked up at her quizzically, then sighed. "I guess I'll just have to feel around for it."

Bobbi's face went white. "No, no. I think I can fix it." She snapped her fingers and the garter appeared.

Voldemort smirked, "Thank you." Then he looked at the garter and gulped, "Do I have to pull it off with my teeth?"

Bobbi giggled and patted his head, "You don't have to if you don't want to." Then telepathically, she added, _'But if you don't pull it off, I won't have sex with you.'_

"I think I'll use my teeth anyway," he decided. He pulled it of slowly, looking completely ridiculous as he did so, but no one dared laugh. Having gotten it off, Voldemort flung it into the crowd where it landed atop Snape's head. Shocked, he took it off to look at it. "Fantastic," he said sarcastically.

"Great! Now none of us are going to get married," Draco said loudly. A few people laughed at his comment.

"Oh, Draco. It's not like you ever had a chance anyway," Bobbi retorted.

After this, Bobbi and Voldemort marched onto the dance floor alone for their final dance. The music started. It was a familiar slow song, the one they had danced to at the Valentine's Day Party.

"People are going to talk," Voldemort whispered.

"Let them talk," Bobbi said softly.

But in the middle of their song, a dark cloud began to cover the sky, blocking out the bright sun. The assembly stopped and looked up at the disturbance. Then they began to scream. "Dementors!"

Bobbi smirked and cackled maniacally. Voldemort stared at her quizzically, "What's so funny?"

"I get to practice my new technique for killing dementors. I developed it during my studies with… a dark master a few years ago. I've yet to try it out on a large scale." She stuck her hand down the back of her dress, pulled out her wand, and pointed it directly at the invading cloud. She muttered a word - very strange and guttural sounding - that Voldemort knew he could not duplicate. Instantly, the entire swarm of dementors burst into flowers, falling swiftly to the ground. Bobbi giggled at her trick.

Voldemort looked at her, stunned. "Where did you learn that?"

"In a small village somewhere near Jamonji. I stayed there one summer on an expedition with a cousin of mine. She was looking for a new species of frogs."

Voldemort laughed and shook his head. Then he turned serious. "You know what this means, right?"

Bobbi nodded, "They've found us out. I'm sure they're not far behind."

"What are your orders, Lord?" Snape asked.

Voldemort glanced at Bobbi, then at the pile of transfigured dementors, then again at Bobbi. He sighed, "We'll have to postpone the honeymoon."

"It's for the best," Bobbi agreed, then added, "We'll need to change. I don't want to get blood on his dress."

"Alright, men!" Voldemort called, "We fight! But change first."

After changing into their fighting robes, they returned to the field, where many men awaited them.

"Ministry officials," Voldemort growled. Then he told Bobbi, who was to his right, "Keep your mask on so they can't identify you." Voldemort had earlier instructed everyone to wear their Death Eater masks. Even he himself was wearing one.

A tall, blonde man at the head smirked as they approached. "See," he said to his men, "I told you they would show." Then he addressed the Death Eaters, "A reliable source told us you would be having a wedding at this location. I see they were right. So sorry to have to crash your reception. Who's the happy couple?"

No one answered.

"Where is your Master?"

Still no one answered.

The blonde man looked over at the pile of black, dead flowers. "It seems one of you is exceptionally talented. Which of you did this to the dementors?"

At this, Bobbi raised her hand.

The blonde man pointed at her, "You, son. Did you do this yourself?"

"Yes, sir," Bobbi replied in a male-toned, convincingly British accent.

"What is your name, son? You don't sound familiar. Are you new?"

"Why sir, you know me. I'm Harry Potter, the Chosen-Boy-Who-Lies."

The field burst into laughter.

"Oh, shut up!" commanded the blonde.

The laughter dissipated quickly.

"Don't mock me, boy," he threatened Bobbi.

"What will you do? Tell my parents?"

"You can't. They're dead!" Mel shouted. Once again, the Death Eaters burst into cackles.

The blonde man growled agitatedly. "Let's just get this over with. Surrender. If you come willingly, your sentence will be reduced."

No one volunteered.

"Are you sure? We'll just have to take you by force. Alright, men. Get them!"

The battle began. Curses went flying, lighting up the already bright sky.

"Stay near me," Voldemort instructed Bobbi.

"But what if I want to phase?" she asked.

"You can do that in the daytime?" he inquired.

"Yeah. Easily. Wanna see?"

"Please, Bobbi. Stay near me. Don't leave me," he begged.

"As you wish, Master," she agreed. She knocked several men to the ground with one curse. Then she hit three more with another curse.

"Darn it, Bobbi! Save me some," Jake demanded. He grabbed her shoulder. "Do you want to go rip some heads off with me?"

Bobbi looked at Voldemort. She said to him, "You can't see it, but I'm giving you puppy-dog eyes. Please, please let me go up there. I swear nothing will happen to me. I'm so immortal, I cannot even begin to explain, but I swear on my own head I will not get hurt. Please, please, please, please!"

"Bobbi," Voldemort scolded, "Don't do this to me. I just got you back. I can't lose you again."

"You won't, I swear. I can't be hurt." She pulled her hood up ever so slightly, just so that he alone could see her eyes. "Trust me," she begged.

Voldemort stared intensely at her, then sighed and gave in, "Fine. Go. But I will kill you if you are lying to me."

Bobbi smiled gratefully. "Thank you so much. I am your complete slave tonight." She put her mask back on and turned to Jake. "Alright. Let's go crush some skulls!" She took his hand and they ran together to the front. When they had escaped the swarm of Death Eaters, they phased into werewolves, throwing off their masks and galloping into the onslaught of enemies. For two wild beasts, they were exceptionally good at dodging curses.

Voldemort gritted his teeth.

"Don't worry, Master," Snape assured, "She can take care of herself."

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort killed the annoying blonde leader. "That wolf-boy will suffer a fate worse than death if she gets so much as scratched!"

Bobbi had her highest shield on as she slashed and chomped through the crowd. She knew Voldemort would never forgive her if she was even the least bit injured on their honeymoon. But it felt so good to be able to run wild without risk of getting hurt. Her highest shield was her most comfortable one.

She looked to her right. Jake was so rough and jerky when he fought, not at all like her elegant and graceful self. He was so inexperienced with his gift, it took him twice as long to slaughter half as many people as she did, which was still a lot. But he had not had as much practice as she had.

As she watched him, she noticed an odd twitch in his eye that had not been there before. Worried, she fled from her current spot and ran towards him, trampling several men as she did so. Gently, she nudged his jaw with her muzzle, and in response he whimpered. Alarmed, she grabbed him and tore him away from the enemy. Then they Apperated as soon as they were clear of the mob.

Safely alone, they phased back into human form. Jake crumpled into her arms. He cried out, "I think I was Crucio'd. It hurts so bad!"

A little panicky but still under control, Bobbi said, "I'll take you back to the Lair if you need me to."

"Please," he breathed, then collapsed.

"I don't see her!" Voldemort exclaimed, then cursed and added, "I knew this would happen. That boy is going to suffer. But where did he go? Stupid kids!"

"Don't freak out, Voldy," Bobbi commanded, popping up suddenly behind him. She readjusted her new, over-sized mask. "I'm right here. Some complications arose."

"Where is Jake?" Phil asked behind her.

"Infirmary. He got struck."

"How are you?" Voldemort asked.

"I'm fine. Not a scratch on me," Bobbi answered.

"You look rather bloody to me."

"None of it's mine."

"It could have been."

"Well, I'm sorry if I get really into it when I'm killing people."

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort hit an official on a broom. "Cheater."

Eventually, there were no more Ministry officials left. Bodies littered the ground.

"Alright. Let's see who we lost."

Bobbi, Voldemort, Phil, Snape, and a few others assessed the scene. Most of the duelists had fled as soon as they were injured.

"Can I take off this stupid mask now?" Bobbi whined.

"Sure," Voldemort said, "Wormtail. Pick up all the extra masks and take them back to the Lair."

The rest continued to look for survivors.

Voldemort followed Bobbi.

"You could have been killed," Voldemort scolded.

"No I couldn't have. I'm totally immortal."

"But you could have gotten hurt."

Bobbi rolled her eyes. "But I wasn't. I'm fine." She turned around and held him by his shoulders. "Look, I'm sorry I put you through that, but it had to be done. I had to defeat the enemy as fast as I could so I could be with you. And as soon as we're through with this, we can go far, far away and be together. Alone."

"Do you promise?" Voldemort asked.

Bobbi smiled. "I promise." They hugged.

"And you will do whatever I say?"

"I am completely and utterly at your will tonight," she confirmed.

At that moment, an enemy soldier ran onto the field a few yards in front of them. He looked at the two, wild-eyed, and screamed, "Voldemort! Avada Kedavra!"

But before the curse could hit Voldemort, Bobbi pushed him aside, taking the spell herself. It flung her to the ground where she lay motionless and stiff. "Bobbi, no!" Voldemort cried.

"Stupify!" Snape stunned the rouge soldier. Then he turned to two Death Eaters, "Take him to the dungeon and lock him up. We will deal with him later." Then he rushed over to Bobbi, kneeling down beside Voldemort.

Voldemort stared at her frightened. "What do we do?"

"There is nothing we can do," Snape answered in a cold, shaky voice.

"No! There has to be something we can do."

Suddenly, Bobbi started coughing. She sat straight up convulsively and coughed harshly. After a moment of coughing, she wiped her eyes, blinking rapidly, then returned to normal. "Ow," she clutched her chest, "That was painful." She looked at the faces of the stunned men crouching beside her. "Hi," she smiled. Then, taking in their expressions, she crinkled her brow, "What's wrong?"

"But that's impossible!" Snape mumbled, amazed, "He hit her."

"Who hit me?" Bobbi replied, "That's not very nice. Woman beater!"

They stared at her in shocked silence.

Bobbi raised an eyebrow inquisitively, "What's wrong? Tell me. It's not nice to keep secrets."

No one replied. They continued to gape at her, frozen.

Frustrated, Bobbi turned her head to yell at Phil, "Phil! Come here."

Obediently, he ran to her, pulling her off the ground. His jaw was ajar, his skin pale white.

"Gaw, you guys act like I just came back from the dead," Bobbi declared. She offered her hand to Voldemort, who stared at it blankly. "What is wrong with you?" she shouted when he did not respond.

"I think we've just witnessed a miracle," Phil explained.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Bobbi yelled.

"Someone hit you with the Killing Curse," Phil answered finally.

Bobbi's eyes widened, then she laughed and sighed relieved, "Oh, that's all? Geez, I thought something terrible had happened." She knocked the two older men to the ground, then slapped Phil lightly on the arm. "Don't scare me like that again," she scolded.

Voldemort and Snape stood up, finally recovering. "How did you do that?" Voldemort asked, amazed.

"Pfft. Immortal. Duh. I told you I couldn't be killed. Sheesh, why doesn't anyone ever believe me?" Bobbi complained. Then she asked Phil, "Who hit me?"

"Some enemy guy. We have him locked up in the dungeon now."

Bobbi chuckled, "I wanna see the look on his face when he realizes I'm still alive. However," she turned to Voldemort, "I'm tired of seeing that look. Get over it. I'm fine. I told you I would be. You shouldn't be shocked. I swear, you men never listen when I tell you stuff. You always assume-" she was cut off by his lips against hers.

"Ugh, get a room!" Phil covered his eyes and walked away, followed shortly by Snape.

After a moment of intense passion, the couple pulled apart to breathe.

"I thought I had lost you again," Voldemort confessed emotionally, laying his head on top of hers.

"Doubt me not. You should have trusted me, but I'm glad you love me so." Bobbi laid her head on his chest and they embraced each other.

Night began to fall. "We ought to get back before the others start to worry," Bobbi sighed. Unwillingly, they Apperated back to Headquarters.

They landed in the middle of the Dining Hall. "Our Masters have returned!" Random-Death-Eater-Number-5 declared loudly.

Upon hearing this, Gregory ran to greet Bobbi. He hugged her tightly. Voldemort cleared his throat loudly and Gregory released her. "I thought they had got you," he choked out emotionally.

"I'm fine," Bobbi smiled.

"Well, Moorehouse came in with a prisoner and told us that he had killed you. He's in the dungeon now."

"Are they beating him?" Voldemort asked.

"I think they kicked him a few times, but they've stopped."

"Good. It's my turn." Voldemort furled his fists and headed to the dungeon.

"He loves me so," Bobbi smiled dreamily after him. Then she focused on Gregory and asked, "How are the others?" She meant specifically her boys.

"I think they all made it. I didn't see Jake, though," Gregory answered. _Maybe he died,_ he thought hopefully. Gregory did not like Jake, just as Voldemort did not like him.

"Jake! He's in the infirmary. Let's go visit him." She took his hand and dragged him to the infirmary.

When they got there, Phil was already by Jake's bed, talking to him. He stood as Bobbi approached, then bowed. "I told Jake about the scare you gave us."

"Hi, guys," Jake waved at his two new visitors. "Bobbi, I swear as soon as I'm better, I'm gonna go down there and torture that guy. He can't try to kill you and get away with it."

"Aw, everyone loves me so much," Bobbi grinned happily.

"By the way," Gregory asked, "how did you survive the Killing Curse?"

"I told you guys I am immortal. Gosh, why does no one believe me?"

"We believe you now," Phil said.

"Yes, but so much could have been avoided if ya'll had listened the first time."

"She saved the Master, you know?" Jake informed Gregory, "Jumped in front of him and took the curse herself."

"Really?" Draco asked as he walked up to the group, "You saved the Master, Bobbi?"

"Sure did. It hurt too. Knocked me flat."

"What curse was it?" Mel asked from behind Draco.

"The Killing Curse," supplied Gregory.

"No way!" contradicted Blaise, "That's impossible. She would have died herself."

"I saw it with my own eyes," Phil explained, "You can ask Snape or the Master. They were there."

"I'll believe it when I hear it from them," Blaise said.

Then Snape strode over to the group. "Mr. Zambini, it is true that Bobbi survived the Killing Curse. I witnessed it myself." Then he left.

"Told ya so," said Bobbi. Then she turned to Jake, "How ya feeling, Jakey-Poo?"

"Alright. I'll be out of here by tomorrow at the latest. And then I'll punch that guy's face in for trying to kill you."

"Oh, that reminds me. Where is my husband? We should be leaving soon."

"He's in the dungeon," said Gregory, "I'll escort you there."

They left the group of boys. Down in the dungeon, shrieks of pain echoed off the walls.

"Yes, my husband's definitely down here," Bobbi confirmed, then called, "Voldy-Kins!"

"In here, Snuggle-Puss!" replied his voice.

"Ha! That's great! When did you think that up?" she asked as she entered.

"Just now," he answered as he embraced her. Then he held her by her shoulders and turned her to face the prisoner. Voldemort addressed the prisoner, "Look upon the face of the child you nearly killed. See how innocent and young she is. Don't you feel ashamed?"

The bound, trembling prisoner did not respond. He seemed to be momentarily lost in space.

"I said look at her!" Voldemort yelled. He Crucio'd the man.

Unwillingly, he looked at her with his huge, frightened eyes. "I am so sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to."

"Did you snap his wand?" Bobbi asked in her sweet, ringing, baby-girl voice.

"Lucious did; he burned it, too," Voldemort answered.

"Please, Miss. I am so, so sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you, honest. If you could just find it in your heart-"

"Can I rip his balls off?" she asked in the same innocent voice as before.

"Eww!" Gregory exclaimed, flinching and backing away, "I'm gonna leave now."

"Please, Miss! No!" the prisoner begged shrilly.

"You know, you ruined my wedding day," Bobbi said, dropping her innocent voice for a more malicious tone, "And you nearly cost me my honeymoon." She moved slowly toward him, a threatening gleam in her fuchsia eyes. "What have you to say for yourself?"

"I am so so so s-soo s-s-sorrry," he bumbled through his quivering lips.

"Yes, I've heard. But how will you make it up to me? Should I ruin your wedding night as well?" She raised her hand and bent her wrist downward. His pants began to slip.

"No, no, no! Please! I'll do anything!"

"Anything," she smirked, "Will you tell me how the Ministry found out about my wedding?"

"There was an inside spy," he explained.

"Yes, I understand that. Who was the spy?"

The prisoner paused as if he would not answer.

"You see these," Bobbi indicated her eyes, "When these turn red, I go wild. You see, I'm restraining myself right now. But just the smallest inconvenience, and they could change," she snapped her fingers, and her eyes flashed red, "Just like that." Her fangs began to extend noticeably and her smile turned to a snarl. "But if you help me out, I promise I'll restrain myself."

"Alright, alright! I'll tell!" He squirmed under her terrifying glare.

"That's right," she said, her voice thick with venom.

"A man by the name of Shunpike. Stanley Shunpike, I believe, yes. Yes, I know."

Bobbi smiled and her fangs receded. She blinked and her eyes returned to fuchsia. Then she turned to her husband, "There's your answer, honey." She stroked his cheek and kissed his lips.

The prisoner's eyes widened further, "You two? Together? You're the Dark Lord's wife?"

"Shh. Don't tell anyone," she whispered. "Let's go eat," she suggested to Voldemort, "I don't want my tummy rumbling tonight." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the prisoner pull a disgusted face, and she smiled.

"Don't you want to at least injure him first? He did try to kill you."

"I am under your jurisdiction. Do you demand it?" she inquired.

"Yes. Hurt him; I demand it."

"Fine! You're so bossy, gosh," she whined playfully. Then she hit the prisoner with a repetitive electrocution curse. "That'll last for about an hour. Now, c'mon. I'm hungry." She pulled Voldemort from the room and out of the dungeon.

As they rounded the corner into the empty hall, Voldemort stopped and spun Bobbi around to face him. "You finally put your powers of manipulation to good use," he complimented her.

She smiled and shook her head, saying, "My powers of manipulation got me you. I'd say that was good use, wouldn't you?"

"Nonetheless, you were excellent back there. How did I deserve such a catch as you?"

"How did I?" she replied with a smile.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, you all know where this is going. The next chapter will be their honeymoon, of course. But don't worry; I'm not one for graphic scenes of **_**that**_** nature, so you shouldn't get any images in your minds. P.S.: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Leave me a review. I love them.**


	11. Disturbing Secrets

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but neither do you. Now we're even!_

**A/N: WARNING: This chapter is all drama and romance. I'm sorry, but it had to happen. Just grin and bear it. It'll all be over soon. Oh, and P.S: This may contain … content … that is disturbing to some viewers. Viewer discretion is advised.**

* * *

Pound. Pound. "Alohamora! Curses, that doesn't open it. You know what?" Bang!

Tom stumbled into the room, laughing and carrying a giggling Bobbi. "You didn't have to break the door," he teased.

"That's not the only thing I'll break," she said insinuatingly as the luggage hulled itself into the bedroom.

"Feisty, aren't you. I'm not sure I should allow such talk unless you can back it up."

"What do you propose we do, then? It is, after all, your choice," she reminded him.

"I want you to go to bed. You've had enough excitement for today."

She rolled her eyes at him, "Are you going to make me beg?"

"I would like that, yes. Beg for your forgiveness and perhaps I shall be merciful with you."

"You really want me to? Alright, but you brought this upon yourself." Still in his arms, she phased into a werewolf. Much too heavy for him, Tom dropped her, and she landed on her haunches. She sat up on her hind legs, straight-backed, and put her curved paws to her chest, more of a meerkat's stance than a dog's. She whimpered pitifully, tilting her head slightly, and dropped her forepaws to the floor. She gave him the most heartbreaking look until he finally caved.

"Alright," he laughed, "You don't have to go to sleep. Now change back."

Bobbi stuck out her tongue and licked his entire face.

"Gross, Bobbi!" Tom exclaimed, pulling his face away and wiping it on his sleeve.

She laid on her back and yipped. She stuck out her tongue and panted, wagging her tail. She yipped at him again.

"What do you want?" Tom asked. He wasn't really a dog person, and having his wife turn into one on their first night together as a married couple was not very appealing.

'Belly,' she said telepathically.

Tom chuckled, "You're not a real dog."

'Belly,' Bobbi repeated.

"No. You're supposed to obey me. That was the deal," Tom reminded her.

Bobbi raised her eyebrows, then rolled over and stood up, changing as she did so. "Oh, fine," she sighed, defeated. "So what are your orders, Master?"

"Don't call me Master tonight. I am your husband, not your slave driver."

"Ay, Captain Tom," she saluted him. Then she giggled and repeated, "What are your orders?"

"Drop and give me twenty," he ordered.

Bobbi began to do pushups, but Tom shook his head and said, "I meant twenty kisses."

"Oh, did you?" Bobbi rolled onto her back and joked, "Werewolf kisses, you mean?"

Tom laughed and shook his head.

"Well, I don't see how I can kiss you if you remain standing," Bobbi hinted. She patted the floor beside her, "Come on down. The wood is nice and warm. Not dirty at all."

"What if I want something a little more cushioned?" Tom hinted, glancing at the bedroom.

Bobbi patted her stomach. "Belly," she repeated.

Tom raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"Sit," she explained, patting her stomach.

Tom snorted a laugh, then shrugged and knelt beside her. "To bed I said."

Bobbi giggled. "Cheater. You know I'm a softy for rhymes." She stood and pulled him up beside her.

He swept her off her feet, cradling her in his arms against his chest like on those hokey old romances. "It is our first night together as a married couple. We are going to use the bed."

"As you wish," she surrender.

…

The next morning, they woke up together, wrapped in each other's arms.

Bobbi breathed in deeply, then snuggled into him. Tom laughed quietly, holding her closer. "Good morning, Bobbi," he whispered.

"Good morning, Tom," she cooed.

Simultaneously, their tummies rumbled. Bobbi groaned. "I guess we better get up and eat."

But as she was pushing herself up, Tom pulled her back down on top of himself. "Just one minute," and he began kissing her.

But as their lips met, both of their stomachs roared loudly. Bobbi sniggered, "What a mood killer."

Tom sighed, "Alright. We'll get up."

"I don't think I'll allow it now," Bobbi confided as she began to kiss him. But again they were interrupted immediately. "Oh, fine," she huffed, lifting herself up and out of the bed. Tom followed her lead. They made their way into the kitchen. Tom wrapped his forearms around Bobbi's waist and rested his chin atop her head as they walked.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked.

"You," she replied, turning and knocking him to the floor, but managing to land him softly on a displaced couch cushion. She pinned him under her pixie-like body and brought her face mere inches from his. Smiling, she joked, "You're so cute, I could just eat you up."

"I don't taste nearly as good as I look," he joked, then added, "However, I'm sure _you_ are delicious." His stomach growled.

They laughed together, then Bobbi got up and helped him to his feet. "Alright, let's eat," she said, "I'll make bacon and eggs. Would that be good for you?"

"Sounds delish," he answered in a valley-girl voice. They laughed again. "It feels so great to be able to joke around without anyone judging me for it," Tom gushed, "You know, I've never had this much fun before, not even when I was a kid. I was so miserable all my life. That is, until you came along."

"Oh, stop it," Bobbi blushed.

"But it's true," Tom continued, "I grew up as an orphan. All the other kids hated me and teased me. They called me Halfie and other mean things."

"Why 'Halfie'?" Bobbi asked, stopping her preparation to look at him.

"Well," Tom bit his lip and scratched his shoulder embarrassedly, "My father was… a… Muggle."

Bobbi gaped at him, slack-jawed for a moment, then gathered herself and commented, "That makes no sense. If you are half-blood, then why are you so severe against Muggles and Muggle-borns?"

"Because I hated my father," he answered with venom, "He made my mother go crazy when he left her."

Bobbi pulled out a chair for him, "Tell me all about it."

So Tom told Bobbi the story of his heritage, how he was the last descendant of Salazar Slitherin still alive, how he became an orphan, everything.

When he finished, Bobbi embraced him comfortingly. "How terrible! I am so sorry; I didn't know how bad you'd had it. If there is anything I can do -"

"Please don't tell anyone," he whispered past the emotional lump in his throat.

"Of course not," she swore, "I wouldn't do that to you."

"Thank you, Bobbi. You truly are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Without you I am nothing. I lived in darkness until I met you, but now I see the light."

_Restrain yourself, Bobbi!_ she commanded her mind, _You cannot start singing 'You Light Up My Life.' This is a very serious moment. Restrain yourself!_ Aloud, she whispered, "That's so sweet, Tom. I love you."

"I love you, too, so much more than I could ever show you. But I don't deserve you one bit. I'm not good enough for you. I've done terrible things to innocent people, and yet I end up marrying an angel. I was so consumed by hate, I almost didn't realize what I had when you joined the Death Eaters. Did you know I used to hate you? When you first arrived at the Lair, I couldn't stand that you were so annoyingly chipper. I loathed and envied you. But when I started to spend time with you, I realized I needed you in more ways than one. Not only are you my best fighter, but you are my best friend. You are my soul mate. You are my other half, my better half, everything I'm not, and I feel complete when I'm with you, like nothing bad can happen as long as you are in my arms. I love you, Bobbi."

"Oh, you're making me cry," she admitted, hugging him tighter. She cleared her throat. "Tom. I don't care what you've done or what you do. I'm here forever because I love you. You don't think much of yourself, but know this. You mean the world to me, you are my bliss. I was blind, but now I see; eres todo para mi."

Tom chuckled, "Did you think that all up just now?"

"Yeah," Bobbi chuckled guiltily, "I'm such a freak, I think in rhymes."

"You're not a freak, Bobbi," Tom scolded softly, "Don't you ever think that."

They hugged in silence for a long moment. Bobbi broke it, "Tom? Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course, Bobbi. Tell me anything."

"Promise you won't freak out or tell anyone else?" she whimpered the question.

"I promised, Bobbi. What is it?"

"I, um, kinda lied to you about my age. When I told you I was born in '58 and that I'm 50 years old, I left out a few digits."

"What do you mean?" He pulled back to look her in the face. Tears were swimming in her eyes.

She looked away and half-grinned guiltily, "It's kind of dumb, really, but," she looked the other way, avoiding his eyes, "I'm not just 50."

She paused. Tom gently took her chin and brought her eyes to him, "Continue."

"Well… I'm 350. I was born in 1658. My mom died shortly after I was born because I-" she took a deep breath, "I broke her spine. I didn't do it on purpose, but carrying a half-vampire fetus is dangerous because we can't control our own strength at such a young age. Still, when my mother died after having me, her tribe chased my father and me out of their territory. My mother was the Alfa female and pack leader. She was the strongest werewolf in the region and surrounding regions, too. She was also pureblood witch, which increased her power.

"Since I was also half werewolf, I could grow and mature. But when I reached 18, my point of maturity, I stopped growing, as vampires are prone to do. Yet for some odd reason, I can still reproduce. I guess that's the werewolf warrior in me, fighting for fertility.

"A couple years after I reached maturity, we returned to Italy. Swam all the way there. We stayed there for a long time before we returned to America. I knew the English language because Dad thought it would be a good idea for me to know it, too. When they established a wizard boarding school in America, we decided to set up more permanent residence nearby, and he sent me to school. We had done a lot of traveling before we settled in America. After school, Dad decided he wanted to stay where he was because he was tired of moving all the time. But I was still pretty young and restless and I wanted to go exploring more. So I did that for awhile. Then I returned, did the thing with Ryan, and set off again. You know the rest."

Tom gazed at her, not sure what to say. Millions of questions swam in his mind. Where else have you been? Did you ever go to Hogwarts? How many languages do you speak? But two in particular nagged at him. He started with the easiest one, "How are you immortal?"

Bobbi smirked, "Well, I'm not entirely sure. I think it's mostly the vampire-thing, but there are some things that I have survived that other normal vampires can't, so it might be that I was born a vampire so I'm more powerful. One vampire-scientist-friend of my dad thought that my extremely rare gene of being half vampire, half werewolf, and 200% witch is the reason, and that absolute immortality is just another perk. Of course, there are certain drawbacks of my gene. I can never die, which could become a pain in the distant future. I'm also infertile with other vampires and werewolves."

That really provoked the second question. "So you've tried to get pregnant by other men before?" Tom inquired.

Bobbi sighed and looked away, "You're not my first or second husband, Tom. My marriages never lasted long. Most of my husband only wanted one thing, and when we got tired of each other, I just left. I didn't marry for love back then. I married for convenience, but when it was no longer convenient, our relationship was over. Oh, and if you're wondering, Stella is my only child."

"What I'm wondering is," Tom took a deep, unsteady breath, "Why did you marry me?"

Bobbi's jaw dropped in shock, then trembled from hurt, "Tom, I - when I say I love you, I mean it. I told you I didn't _used to_ marry for love. And our marriage isn't convenient at all. I only married you because I love you. Why would you think-?"

"Well, you told that boy - oh, what's his name? The one who is Goyle's son."

"Gregory," Bobbi supplied.

"Yes, Gregory. You told Gregory that you prey on men who have no hope for happiness, and with what you've just told me, I thought I might be just another one of your charity cases."

"Did Gregory tell you I said that?"

"No. Snape told me that you told Gregory that."

"How did Snape know?"

"Gregory told him. Apparently everyone trusts Snape with personal information. He could be the downfall of us all. But that's not important right now. Back to my question."

"Tom, I only told Gregory that so he would stop pestering me. I was trying to make him feel like he deserved better than me so that he would move on. You are NOT my charity case. You are my soul mate and I love you. Do you know why I kept my utter immortality a secret from you? Because I don't want you to feel like I'm a threat to your throne. I want you to feel good about your powers, about yourself. And I didn't want you to feel stupid for -" she cut off abruptly.

"For what?" he pushed.

"No, I don't want to say it. It's mean."

"I can handle it. Continue."

"No, I'll feel guilty for saying it because it is cruel."

"Bobbi, just say it. I need to know why you lied."

Bobbi sighed, "Fine. But you're gonna hate me afterward."

"Quit stalling and tell me," he insisted.

She sighed again, "I didn't want you to feel stupid for being suicidal over my death when I couldn't have died anyway."

"No, actually I should be mad at you for not telling me sooner because we could have avoided all of this."

"I did tell you I was immortal. Everyone knew I was immortal. I explained to everyone as soon as I joined the Death Eaters that I was a vampire and therefore immortal. But no one believed me, as usual. You all doubted my powers even after I proved them. _You_ didn't even believe me until I got hit by the Killing Curse and lived. So, I did inform you that I was immortal, though I didn't tell you the full extent of my immortality. But nonetheless, I did tell you, so you can't get mad at me, and I'm really hungry." Bobbi ended her rant and stared at her stomach. It growled furiously several times. She hopped off of Tom's lap and picked up her cooking from where she left off. "The glasses are in that cabinet, I think; be a dear and make us both drinks."

"Aren't we going to continue our discussion?" he asked after a minute of silence.

"I really like this stove. It cooks the food faster than my dad's stove. His takes forever to heat up," she commented, ignoring his question and continuing her cooking.

Irritated, Tom made drinks for the two of them in silence, thinking that maybe she would respond if he did his part. After another minute of silence, Tom began, "I said-" but he was cut off by Bobbi's cackling. Angrily, he yelled, "This isn't funny! This is serious!"

Still laughing, Bobbi turned off the stove and placed the hot eggs and bacon on the table. She sat down in her seat, smiling and shaking her head. When he did not sit back down, she looked up at him with a smile, "Tom, sit down and enjoy breakfast with me. This is our honeymoon; we are not an old married couple and therefore should not fight as such. If you feel we have more to discuss, we can discuss it later when we're not cranky from hunger."

Tom cracked a smile and shook his head. Calmly, he sat back down. "I remember when I could get whatever I wanted with words," he chuckled, then added, "And yet I wasn't nearly as talented as you."

"Oh, you're making me blush," she giggled.

They enjoyed breakfast together. When they had finished, they sat down on the couch. "So, what did you want to say?" Bobbi prompted when they were situated.

"I'm not gonna say it. It was stupid and irrational, and I overreacted. I broke my promise; I did freak out. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Tom. I'm not a very good person, and I should have warned you, but I love you so much, I was afraid that I would scare you off. I'm sorry. I should have trusted you. Let's enjoy the rest of our honeymoon."

"What would you like to do?" he asked.

"Oh, I know _who_ I wanna do," she giggled.

* * *

**A/N: This is the end of Chapter 11. Please feel free to leave a comment. I love them.**


	12. Dangerous Revelations

_Disclaimer: I don't own nothing! Quit taxing me for it!_

**A/N: If you have stayed faithful to the story this long, then I commend you for it. Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen! And now, without much further ado, I present to you Queen Bobbi!**

* * *

At the end of the third week, the newly weds returned to their castle to continue business. They took off on a broom just after the sun had set.

"Remind me again why I allowed you to take us on a broom," Tom panicked as they flew wildly through the air.

"Because you love me," Bobbi laughed, "And because the night air will cleanse your soul. And look at the sky! Que bella luna!"

"There's a full moon," Tom observed.

"Yes. Hopefully the werewolves won't attack us."

"You're not going to change, are you?" he asked warily.

"Of course not. I'm only part werewolf, and I can control when I change. My mother could too. I think 3rd generation werewolves can control when they phase. Jake can, and he is fourth generation like me. It must be a hereditary power."

"What do you mean by '3rd generation'?"

"When both of your parents are werewolves and all of their parents were werewolves. Of course, my father's no werewolf, but he is extra magical, which must account for something," Bobbi explained.

"Aah!" Tom cried as they barely missed a tree, "Watch what you're doing!"

"No backseat driving. I'm perfectly capable of flying a broom. I have my license."

"There is no license for broom flying."

"Oh. I guess I only have a license for Apperating. Well, nonetheless, I still am capable, alright."

"Just don't fly us into anything," Tom commanded shrilly.

"Oh, relax. I haven't crashed a broom in over 40 years. And there is nothing to run into the rest of the way. 'Sides, we're almost there, and I've made it this far."

They continued on until at last they reached the old, familiar castle. Bobbi pulled the broom to a stop right at the entrance to the Lair where a large gathering of Death Eaters stood in wait of their masters' return.

As they landed, Jake strolled casually up to them. Smiling, he hugged Bobbi briefly. She held him at arm-length and observed, "You seem to have healed well."

"Yes. Unfortunately, I fear Fenrir has gotten himself into some trouble with the neighboring werewolves."

"Oh dear. Must we to fetch him?"

"I believe so." Jake and Bobbi chuckled at their game of diction.

"Well," Bobbi deduced, "I suppose I'd better change into appropriate clothing." She snapped her fingers - a crack, a puff of smoke - and her outfit was instantly different. She was in her grubbies. She turned to Voldemort, gave him a quick kiss, and told him, "I'll be back in 30 minutes."

"Wait; you can't leave," objected Gregory, "You just got back."

"I won't be gone long. I'll be back in less than an hour. I promise."

"Ready, then?" Jake offered her his hand.

"On your mark," Bobbi dropped to her hands in a runner's stance.

Jake copied her movements embarrassedly. "Get set. Go!" They blasted off, phasing as they tore into the night.

Bobbi loosed an excited howl as they raced across the field, heading towards the forest. _'So which way did Greyback go?' _she asked telepathically.

'_Follow me,'_ Jake answered. He led her through the woods where several different howls could be heard. They slowed their pace. _'Remember: These werewolves aren't like us. They have little logical reasoning. Of course, they will talk to us while we are in this stage and acting like regular werewolves. But don't act like you normally do. These guys are furious and merciless. Be careful.'_

'_Thanks Jake, but I know what I'm doing,'_ she responded smugly. She howled in a calling manner, and several others responded. She howled again, a more distinctly leader-type call. Footsteps could be heard swiftly approaching them. _'Act like I'm your superior,' _she commanded Jake.

Rolling his eyes, he lowered himself and bowed to her. She stood up haughtily, her head held high like she was a queen. Her poise was sophisticated, and yet at the same time it was threatening and dangerous, and as the other wolves sauntered into the clearing, they recognized her power and presented themselves submissively to her.

She barely acknowledged them as she announced in an important tone, _'One of my pack has gone missing. He is a large grey. Have you seen him?'_

'_He's been stirring up trouble with my brothers,' _answered a small, brown wolf quietly, _'I will lead you to him.'_

Jake couldn't believe his pointed, furry ears. He lifted his head slightly to take in the scene. All of the other wolves were his size - the normal werewolf size - and looked just as ferocious as any other. Yet they all had a look of fear in their green and yellow eyes as they beheld Bobbi. Bewildered, Jake glanced at Bobbi, then understood their behavior. Bobbi was not a normal werewolf. She was midnight black - the blackest black possible - with a threatening stripe of bright red down her back. And her eyes - they were not their normal fuchsia; they were blood-red, menacing and deadly.

Jake followed silently behind Bobbi as the gathering of wolves padded through the forest. At long last, they came upon a camp. It was empty of inhabitants at the moment, but by the look of things they had only just left and would soon be back.

'_This is our camp,' _explained the speaker of the group, _'We last saw the one you seek hiding in the brush. He and Ninetoes had it out. I would think they are still at it close by.'_

Bobbi growled. She looked straight ahead and solemnly said, _'Shall we go after them.' _Quick yet elegant, she sped off into the woods in a no specified direction. A heartbeat later, the rest of the wolves, including Jake, took off after her."

'_How does she plan to capture him?' _one of the others asked Jake as they ran, _'He is extremely large and quite savage.'_

'_My Queen has her ways. She'll probably charm him into submission with her feminine ways,'_ Jake scoffed.

When they eventually caught up with Bobbi, she had already found and overtook Greyback. Now she was scolding him. _'Bestial child! I don't care if there is a full moon; I'm younger than you and even I don't act like that.'_

Greyback had his head lowered, his ears down, and his tail between his legs as if the chastisement shamed him.

'_We'll be leaving now,' _Bobbi announced, _'Thank you for your help.'_ She started back towards the castle without another word, Jake and Greyback following obediently, silently. They traveled quickly away from the other wolves, slowing their pace once they were out of the woods.

Jake stopped abruptly. Bobbi paused a few seconds later. She raised one eyebrow quizzically. Jake answered her stare by sitting down firmly. Bobbi rolled her eyes. She gave Greyback a stern look and he obediently returned alone to the castle.

Once he was out of hearing range, Bobbi sauntered over to Jake in a fashion more fitting of a fox than a wolf. _'Qué pasa?' _she asked.

'_I need to talk to you. Alone.'_

'_Be fast. I promised it wouldn't take long,' _she reminded him.

'_Follow me,' _he commanded, heading towards the woods. She cantered along beside him. _'Do you always look like this when you are a wolf?'_

'_Only on full moons. Usually I'm much more adorable,'_ she answered.

They reached the trees in only a few seconds. Then Jake phased back into human, Bobbi following his example. He took her hands in his own and smiled at her. "Now that we're alone, I want to tell you something."

An alarm went off in Bobbi's head, and she knew from experience what he was going to say. "Jake, don't."

"I want to tell you something," he repeated.

"No you don't," she objected.

"But I really, really want to," he insisted.

"Trust me, you don't."

"I'll explode if I don't say it."

"I highly doubt that," she countered.

"I need to tell you."

"Don't say it."

"I can't keep it to myself any longer."

"Jake, don't," Bobbi pleaded.

"I love you," he admitted in a whisper.

Bobbi's lips tightened. Her eyes showed pain, guilt, regret, sorrow. "Jake," she whispered in a betrayed tone.

"I had to say it. You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love you."

Bobbi shook her head, flinging a few fresh tears. "Don't quote Jane Austin to me. Jake, you know better. I'm married to Tom. I love him," she whimpered.

She tried to take her hands back, but he held tightly to them. He looked at her sincerely, "I love you, Bobbi. I know that you are married, but I don't care. We don't have to stay here - we can leave, go far away where no one can find us."

"Jake, I can't. I'm married to the Dark Lord. I am the wife of the Dark Lord. You can't have me; I'm spoken for."

"Screw Voldemort! He doesn't deserve you; no one does. You can have whoever you want. Ditch him and come with me. I don't care if it's dangerous; I love you so much that I would risk my life for us to be together. You don't have to worry about me. I don't care." He was passionate.

"I do worry about you, Jake. Why would you think I am willing to leave? I don't want to. This is my home."

Now Jake was confused. "But you're trapped here. You have to be with Voldemort if you stay. But if we leave, we can be together." He squeezed her hands for effect.

"But I don't want to be with you. I want to be with Tom. I love _him_," she insisted.

Jake's face dropped. "I thought you loved me."

"I do, but-"

"Then why are you being so difficult?" he asked in angry, hurt frustration.

"Because I only love you as a brother. I don't want to marry you. If I did, I wouldn't have married Tom. And although I do love many men at the castle, I only want one as a husband, and he already is mine. We are not soul mates, Jake; we are only friends," Bobbi declared harshly.

Jake recoiled, dropping her hands as if her words had stung him. "But-" he gasped.

Bobbi glared at him angrily, saying coldly, "You broke the rule, Jake." Then she sighed and all at once her expression broke into sorrow. Her face softened and dropped. She bowed her head, shook it, and whispered disappointedly, "You broke the rule." Then she turned and stalked off into the open, leaving him forlorn.

When he recovered enough to move, he took off after her. But she had already disappeared from sight.

…

Back at the Lair, Bobbi wiped away all evidence of tears. She walked into the castle and was immediately greeted by Gregory. He had his arms crossed and asked in a playfully rough tone, "Where have you been?"

"Oops! I thought I'd gotten away with it."

They both laughed at their game. Then Gregory added, "You can't keep secrets from me." But his smile turned suddenly serious. "So why didn't you return with Greyback? And where is Jake?"

Bobbi's face fell, and she looked away.

"Oh no," Gregory started, "What did he do?"

"He, um… broke the rule," Bobbi hinted.

Gregory groaned. "Stupid boy! He knows better. He knows you are the Master's wife. Why did he think you would pick him?"

Bobbi shook her head despairingly, "I don't know." She took a steadying breath. "What do we do?"

"I'm not sure. If you tell the Master, Jake will probably be disposed of."

"I don't want that!" Bobbi exclaimed.

"I know. But if he can't contain his emotions, he won't be able to stay."

"I know." Bobbi clutched her forehead. "What can I do? I love him, but not like that. He is a brother to me and nothing more. But I can't let him die."

"Shh," Gregory soothed, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back, "It's alright. We can deal with this tomorrow. Let's just relax and enjoy your return. The others are waiting in the Lounge."

"Don't tell anyone," she whispered against his chest.

"I promise I won't," he assured.

"Thanks, Gregory. You are my best friend. There is only one person I value over you and that is my husband."

"You're welcome, Bobbi. And thank you." He repressed the emotional lump in his throat and forced it away because men don't cry. He wanted to ask her something, but he knew it would offend her and now was definitely not the right time.

She pulled away, wiping her eyes and cheeks until all evidence of crying was erased. She smiled and asked, "Shall we join the others?" She extended her hand to him.

He smirked and said, "On your mark."

* * *

The next day, Jake was not at breakfast. He was not at lunch, nor was he at dinner.

"Did you do something to him?" Bobbi asked Gregory after dinner.

"No, I swear I didn't. I guess he just left. He probably realized his error and decided it best to just leave. But at least you don't have to worry about you-know-what."

Bobbi sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Stupid American boys! Always want someone they can't have. They're so cocky. That's exactly why I left. I was tired of it."

"I guess you can't always run from your problems," Gregory said, then added, "But Jake thinks he can."

"Can we stop talking about this?" Bobbi snapped.

"Sure. I'm sorry, I went too far."

"It's okay. Let's just forget him. He's gone now. We don't need to keep dwelling on him."

"Agreed. But if you need to talk, you know where I live. Come at any time. I'll be here."

"Thanks, Gregory. You are a true friend."

They continued down the hall in silence. Bobbi sighed in boredom, then got an idea. "Hey! What would you say to a duel?"

Gregory laughed. "Against you? I wouldn't have a chance of winning."

"I just meant for fun. We could use silly spells, like Bat Boogies."

"I'm afraid those bats would kill me," he confessed.

Bobbi crossed her arms, "We used to duel for fun all the time. It won't be any different than before. I haven't changed. I've always been immortal. Don't be afraid of me. I won't hurt you."

Gregory bit his lip, then sighed, "Fine. But I want someone else to be there too so you don't have just me to pick on."

"You're such a wimp," she laughed, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "Alright. When we get down there, we will call the others."

At that moment, Mel ran up to them. "Hey guys. What are you doing?"

"We're going to have a fake duel in the dungeon," Bobbi answered, "And you are invited."

"Cool! This'll be fun!" Mel chattered.

"See? Why can't you be like Mel? He knows I'm not gonna hurt him," Bobbi lectured.

Minutes later, Bobbi and all her boys were down in the dueling chamber getting ready. Snape had come to watch them.

"Alright, guys," Bobbi began, "This is just for fun. Serious spells are not allowed. And also, don't try to kill me just because you know I won't die. It takes the fun out of things and you might miss."

"Are we ready, then?" Draco asked, brandishing his wand.

"Wait," Blaise interrupted, "Are we dueling at random or do we have teams?"

"I don't know," Bobbi shrugged, "What do you want to do?"

"I'm on Draco's team," Blaise declared.

"I'm on Bobbi's," shouted Mel enthusiastically.

"I'm on Draco's," announced Crabbe.

"I'm on Bobbi's," volunteered Phil.

Gregory was left standing in the middle, glancing between his 2 best friends.

"C'mon, Goyle. Pick a side already," Draco commanded irritably.

"I'm thinking," he yelled back.

"Somebody flip a coin," Blaise snickered.

"What are you waiting for?" Draco yelled.

"I'm trying to decide," Gregory answered.

"Bros before hoes, dude," Jake said, suddenly appearing through the door. He smiled at the group, then walked confidently to Bobbi's side. "Hey, sis," he greeted her casually like nothing had happened.

"Where ya been, Jake?" Mel asked.

"I needed some fresh air," he answered.

From across the room, Snape and Bobbi shared a wary glance.

"We'll talk later," Bobbi whispered to Jake.

"Ha! Now you have to join our side," taunted Crabbe.

"With pleasure," replied Gregory. He hurried to their side, taking his place on the left of Draco.

"Playful hexes only," reminded Bobbi, "And play nice, else I'll getcha."

The duel began. Giggling and laughter commenced shortly after. Nothing too harsh was done, and the worst it got to was Eat Slugs. Gregory used that one against Jake. Gregory seemed to be picking on Jake in particular, and by the end of the duel, Jake had donkey ears, a pig tail, an extra arm or two that continuously slapped him, and horns. Draco was given a beak and upraised, orange feathers on his head. Bobbi had been given batwings, which she was rather enjoying. Blaise had boobs; Mel had a wrinkled face and basset hound ears; Phil had a pickle nose; Crabbe couldn't stop dancing; and Gregory was bald with no nose.

"You know, Gregory," Bobbi commented after the duel when they were assessing each other, "That look kinda turns me on; but you can't pull it off nearly as well as the Master." She giggled.

"Darn, and I so thought this would get you," he joked, "But I do admit they look better on him than me."

"What are you boys doing?" Voldemort asked as he entered. He looked at Blaise in alarm, "Who's the new girl?"

Bobbi burst into cackles.

"Oh, shut up," Blaise shouted sourly at her.

"Those are too big for you," she laughed, "They're bigger than your head!"

"Can I touch them?" Mel asked.

"No!" Blaise wrapped his arms over them defensively.

Voldemort looked at Gregory. "Thief! You stole my look."

"See, I told you you were a trendsetter," Bobbi said to her husband.

Voldemort shook his head, informing Gregory, "It doesn't work for you."

"Fine. Take it back," Gregory joked.

"You can't," laughed Jake, "But it'll wear off in a week."

Gregory flapped his jaw angrily, then pulled Jake's ear and said, "You really are a jackass!"

"Language," Bobbi scolded, then laughed, "You know, the best part about this is that none of this will wear off for about a week."

"What?" they all cried in horror.

"I didn't agree to that!" Draco protested, trying desperately to flatten his feathers.

"Oh, what are you whining about? At least you don't have boobs!" Blaise snapped.

Mel giggled, pulled out his wand, and gave Draco boobs. "Now you do!"

"Ah! You prick! I'll teach you," and Draco gave Mel boobs so big, he fell to the floor.

"Ow! They're too heavy!" Mel complained.

Crabbe burst into cackles.

"Oh, shut up," Mel mumbled, giving Crabbe boobs as well.

The rest of the boobless boys ran horrified out the door.

"Oh no you don't, Goyle," Draco yelled, "Get back here!" The latter group ran after the former group, chasing them down the halls, shooting curses recklessly.

"Hey! No cursing outside of the dueling chambers!" Bobbi yelled. She ran after them and sprang, knocking Mel to the ground.

"No fair," he protested, "My boobs are too big to run with."

Bobbi giggled, then tapped him with her wand and immediately he returned to normal. "Now off to bed."

He grinned relieved, then sighed and whined, "Aw, I didn't even get to see them."

Bobbi giggled, "You're too young to be a Death Eater. Now go to bed." Then she ran after the rest of them and managed to tackle Draco to the ground. She returned him to normal as well and ordered him to bed. Then she took off again after Blaise, who was much faster than expected.

When she finally had him pinned, she mocked, "You run too fast for this to be your first time with boobs. Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Just return me to normal," he sighed.

"Okay," and she did. Then she rounded up the rest of the boys and removed their curses. When she was finished, she flew to her bedroom on her batwings. Exhausted, she collapsed to the floor in a pathetic heap. "Too… tired… to… move," she panted.

"Oh, dear. What have we here? Has the indestructible Bobbi finally worn out?"

"Children can kill you, ya know. They're all evil and they think it's funny to see how far they can push you." She tried to push herself up, but didn't have the strength. Confused, she tried again, harder and more stubbornly, but again she came crashing down. She growled. "What is wrong with me?!"

The voice, which had been snickering, now asked with concern, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she answered worriedly. Then realization dawned on her, "Oh. I'm hungry. I need more blood. It's been more than a month since I ate last. I must be empty. And I didn't eat much at dinner. No wonder I have no strength, what with all the energy I've been using both physically and with magic."

"Do you need help?"

"Yes."

"What's the magic word?" the voice taunted.

"I'll kill you," she answered.

"Don't get all snippy." Voldemort appeared beside her. Gently, he swept her up, cradling her in his arms, and Apperated into their room. He laid her down on the bed. "Poor baby. You look absolutely famished," he clucked.

"You wore me out, old man. You and all your rowdy children," she smiled.

He chuckled. "Do you want me to get you some food?"

"Yes," then she added, "Please."

He left, then returned moments later. He handed her bacon and eggs, which she gobbled down greedily. Then she smiled at him, "You know me so well." She pushed herself up weakly, groaning. She sighed, saying, "I'll need to hunt tomorrow." She toppled over and curled up, fetal position.

"Wow, this is weaker than I've ever seen you. There must be something wrong."

Bobbi's closed eyes opened wide in alarm and she threatened him in a shaky voice, "You better not have gotten me pregnant."

"What? You don't honestly think-"

"I don't know. Maybe," she mumbled, worried.

"I don't think I could have-"

"But men don't-"

"I know, but I'm-"

"We didn't use-"

They stared at each other, horror mirrored in their faces. After a long period of silence, Voldemort whispered, "Wh-what, happened last time? Did this…?"

"I don't remember. I had all the usual signs of pregnancy, which involved change in appetite and fatigue, but it didn't happen this fast."

He stared at her in horror. "You don't think it could be different because of me, do you?"

"There's not much difference except that you're older, but that shouldn't matter."

"Could it be because-" he stopped as his eyes glassed over.

"Tom? Tom?" she called. When he didn't respond, she threw a pillow at him. His eyes returned to normal and he shifted his gaze on her, shutting his mouth. "What is it, Tom? What could it be?" she asked.

"My secret," he whispered.

"Your secret? You mean the one that keeps you immortal? Why would that make a difference? What is your secret?"

"Well, I just thought if we were both immortal, it might speed things up. You said that when immortals reproduce, it doesn't take as long sometimes. Maybe this is one of those times."

"Oh, gaw," Bobbi squeaked. "I hope we're wrong. I'm not ready for a child."

"Nor am I," Voldemort confessed. He sat down heavily on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

Bobbi reached for him and barely grasped a fistful of his cloak. She tugged weakly at it. "Tom, please," she cooed, "Don't worry about it. I'm probably just dehydrated. I'll be better tomorrow. Don't worry."

He turned slowly to face her. He nodded his worried head. "I hope you're right. It's not that I don't want to have a kid with you. It's just that now is not the time."

"I understand. I feel the same way." She sat up with a bit less effort. "See, I'm already getting better."

Tom smiled a little. "You need to go to sleep," he chided softly, stroking her face gently. He removed her batwings and helped her into bed, then crawled under the covers next to her. He hugged her lovingly to his chest and they fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Bobbi stumbled into her old room. She had yet to move her stuff to Voldemort's room. Dizzily, she dropped to her knees in front of her mini fridge. She dug through all the junk until she found her emergency stash of blood. She devoured it quickly, and soon after she began to feel better. She sighed, relieved, "I knew I should have hunted after I got hit by the Killing Curse."

Just then, Voldemort Apperated into her room. She smiled at him and he smirked, "I hope you didn't kill one of the good fighters."

She remembered then the blood and chuckled, "This is old blood. It's like my emergency stash, in case I need it immediately."

"I know," he laughed. Then he asked seriously, "How do you feel?"

"Better. I think getting killed took all my energy. I should have hunted right after I got hit."

"You'll be okay, thought, right?" he worried.

"If it makes you feel better, I'll take a pregnancy test," Bobbi offered.

Voldemort nodded his head.

Bobbi stood and went into her bathroom. She washed away the blood, then opened the cabinet and pulled out a small box. "Someone gave it to me as a prank for our wedding. Let me check it to see if it's been tampered with." She scanned her wand over it, "Nope." She opened it and flinched, "I hate these things."

"I'll see you at breakfast," Voldemort waved.

Ten minutes later, Bobbi joined her boys at the breakfast table.

"What took you so long?" Mel asked.

"The sun hinders my ability to function," she sighed as she slumped into her seat beside Voldemort. She grabbed some bacon and chunked it carelessly into her mouth.

"Wow, Bobbi, you must be sick," Jake deduced, "You didn't even react to the bacon."

"The sun turns me into an emo kid."

"Don't cut yourself," commanded Jake.

Bobbi chuckled briefly, "As if I could be cut. The knife would break before it did any damage to me. Trying to cut myself would only succeed in sharpening the knife. I'm totally indestructible."

"We'll see about that," Draco said, picking up a knife and plunging it down toward her arm. On impact, the knife crumpled like aluminum foil.

Bobbi chuckled amused, "Told ya." Then she gazed at Draco with heart-wrenching eyes. "Why would you do that to me, big cousin. I thought you loved me." She hid her face and pretended to weep.

"Get over yourself. We all knew it wouldn't hurt you," he sneered, rolling his eyes.

"It's still not very nice," she sniffled.

"Ha! Since when is a Death Eater nice?"

"I'm nice," she giggled, striking a childlike pose.

"_You_ aren't a real Death Eater," Draco accused.

"Oh, please! I've killed more people than you have. Just because both your parents and your aunt are Death Eaters doesn't make you anymore of a Death Eater than I."

"Yes it does. I was born a Death Eater."

"But I married the Master of the Death Eaters. Beat that!"

"I'd rather he not," Voldemort commented.

The table laughed. Bobbi and Draco shook hands.

After breakfast, Bobbi returned to her room to "take a nap." Worried, Gregory decided to pop in and check on her after he finished his own breakfast. When he entered her room, it appeared empty, and he thought she must have gone to Voldemort's room. But then he heard voices from the bathroom.

"What does _green_ mean? That's not even a choice. It's supposed to be blue or pink, I think, but it's definitely not supposed to be _green_!" Bobbi's voice complained.

"I think it means you have a space alien," Voldemort's voice proposed.

"Maybe it's a snake. WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING!? I know it wasn't me, so obviously you've had some wild orgies without me and then rubbed it off of me. What kind of husband are you?" Bobbi scolded.

"I'm sorry. Nagini swore she wasn't positive," Voldemort defended. "What's it doing now?"

"It's turning orange. Stupid Muggles, I swear. How do they function with these flawed devices?"

"Are you sure it wasn't tampered with?"

"Positive. Maybe this is a Muggle prank pregnancy test and it's supposed to be stupid like this. Well, this was a waste of time."

"You're pregnant?!" Gregory blurted. He slapped his hand over his mouth, trying to conceal the outburst but failing.

The bathroom door flung open, revealing the furious Voldemort and Bobbi. "Gregory, I told you not to eavesdrop," Bobbi scolded through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," he whimpered.

Bobbi threw her arm up and slapped it back down in exasperation. "Well, now I'm gonna have to kill you. Oh, but first I need you to go and get me a real pregnancy test. This one doesn't work. Get me a digital one if you can. I hate those cheap color things."

"You're pregnant?" he repeated.

"I don't know, Gregory. If I knew, why would I need a test?"

"I'll go and get you one," he promised, fleeing the room. His thoughts reeled as he walked down the hall. _Pregnant! She can't be pregnant. She's only 18. She's not old enough to have a baby. And this is the worst possible time for her to carry a child. What were they thinking?_ As he left the castle on his broom, he wondered, "Now where can I get a pregnancy test? I think I'll use the Flue Network." He turned back to the castle and went to the grand fireplace.

When Gregory had finally found and bought a test, he returned to the Lair and sought out Bobbi, who was still in her room with her husband. She jumped up when she saw him, "Did you get it?" He nodded his head solemnly and handed it to her. She took it, saying, "Don't tell anyone."

"Of course not," he vowed.

"I'm probably not, anyway."

"Whatever happens, we'll get through it together," Voldemort swore, hugging her.

She smiled, then stole into the bathroom. Gregory shut the bedroom door and went to stand next to Voldemort. Several minutes later, Bobbi opened the door, a big smile on her face.

"What did it say?' Voldemort asked anxiously.

"Negative," she sang. "Looks like I'm just really dehydrated."

"So you're not pregnant," Gregory clarified.

"No, Gregory. I'm not pregnant."

"If you were, would I be the godfather?"

Bobbi laughed, "Of course."

* * *

The next day, after Bobbi had hunter, she sought out her next biggest problem. She skipped down the halls until she came across the door of her choice. She knocked politely.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"You know who," she answered.

"Which one? I might deny you entrance."

"But I thought you loved me."

"It depends on who's asking."

"You know who's asking."

"I know You-Know-Who is asking. But which You-Know-Who is it?"

"Regina Del Mundo," Bobbi hinted.

"In that case, I deny you entrance. You are not my master and therefore I do not have to let you in."

"Should I get my husband?" she threatened.

"Oh, fine. Come in," he groaned.

Bobbi opened the door quietly and entered, shutting it behind herself. "Why so hostile?" she asked.

"You rejected my love. How am I supposed to feel?" Jake retorted bitterly.

"That's what I came to talk to you about," Bobbi began, "Why did you come back? Have you changed your mind?"

"I have not. I still love you, Bobbi, so much that I couldn't stand to be away from you even though you don't love me," Jake answered passionately.

"I do love you, Jake, but as a brother. You know I cannot love you any closer. I am married, Jake! Why do you think I risked my life to get married to the Dark Lord? Because I love him. I wouldn't have married him when it put everyone in danger if I was going to turn right around and cheat on him. That's stupid! That's selfish! Don't you understand, Jake? I can't love you," Bobbi concluded, grabbing his shoulders. She was fierce, and yet she held him softly.

"So you do love me, but not as much as _him_; is that right?" Jake snapped. He jerked out of her grasp. There was a long, awkward silence as the two teens stood at opposite ends of the dark room.

Finally, Bobbi broke the silence, "Jake, I don't want you to be sad or mad at me. It's not that he's better than you. It's just that he was there first and we're better suited for each other. You and I aren't a good match."

"But we are, Bobbi! Don't you see? We were made for each other. We're both American werewolves; we're both teens; we both enjoy ripping people apart with our teeth. We read the same books, watch the same movies, speak with strange diction at random moments. We're both immature and inappropriate and we'll never change. I love you and you love me, and even though you say it's only sibling-love, I know you have deeper feelings. Don't deny it. We both know it's true. But I understand that you want to stay with Voldemort. I know you'll probably stay with him till he dies, which gives me an idea. He's 70-something and you're only 18. But you're immortal, so you'll live forever, and since I'll probably still be alive when Voldemort dies, I'll come back for you then. Savvy?"

Bobbi stared at him inquisitively, "So you're going to wait till my current husband dies so that you can be my new husband."

"Yep. It all works out. You can be with Voldemort now, and when he dies you can be with me."

"That could be a long time, Jake. Why waste your life waiting for me?"

"Because I love you. I want you to be happy. And no matter how long it takes, I'll wait for you."

Bobbi bit her lip, "Jake, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be in love with me while you live under the jurisdiction of my husband."

"What am I supposed to do? I can't leave. I tired that, remember? I didn't even make it a whole day. And I can't just get over you. I love you too much. You're the first person to understand me. Even my parents don't understand me like you do."

Bobbi gnawed on her lip. "Well then, we have a problem. It's not safe for you to stay here while you love me, and I'm not leaving. I really think you should find another girl."

"There are no other girls! You were the only girl here that wasn't old and married, and even though you're married now, your husband has the highest risk of death in the country."

"But I'm sure Voldemort will recruit more single girls now that there are none."

"What girl in her right mind would want to be a Death Eater? Other than you, of course; but you're a special case. You're a better fighter than anyone here. You can even fight groups by yourself and still win. And you're immortal. Plus, you're just plain scary and no one would mess with you unless they had a death wish. Besides, even if we did recruit more girls, no one could ever make me feel the way you do."

"That's because I'm a seductress! I was created with the purpose of attracting men. I can't help that. It's just how I am."

"I don't care. I can't help but love you, Bobbi, and if that means being single for 10 more years, so be it. I won't leave. I can't. You'll have to kill me first."

Bobbi flinched at his words. He was way, way out of line for saying those things, but he was right. The only way to get rid of him was to kill him, and she didn't want that. She sighed, defeated, "Fine. But don't tell anyone else anything."

Jake's grin was arrogant, "Of course not." He approached her, arms held wide, and embraced her in a more-than-friendly way.

All the while, she plotted his demise.

…

Later that day, she sought out another of her friends. "Gregory, I need to talk to you."

He smiled casually, "Sure." They walked into his room and sat down on his bed. "Alright. What is it?"

"It's Jake," she began, and his smile immediately dropped. She continued, "He firmly believes that he and I are soul mates. He's got this whole plan that after Voldemort dies, we're going to get married to each other. He thinks I really do love him as much as he loves me, and I'm afraid he's going to do something drastic because of his obsession. It's not like your obsession at all. Yours was amusing. His is dangerous. He could hurt someone, and he probably will. Oh, Gregory! What do I do?" She smashed her face into his shoulder.

"Um, I don't know, Bobbi. You might have to make him leave," he offered.

"I can't. He refuses. He said the only way he would leave is if he was dead."

Gregory's eyes widened. "Well, if it's the only way-"

"No! I can't kill him!" she whined.

"But if he's dangerous, it's better if we make sure he can't hurt anyone."

"I know, but," she shook her head, and he could feel tears in his shirt, "I just can't do it. I know him too well. He's practically a brother to me."

"Brothers don't make you kill your husband so they can sleep with you."

Bobbi sighed in defeat, "I know. But I don't want to be the cause of his death. I'll feel guilty for eternity."

"Voldemort wouldn't feel guilty," Gregory reminded darkly.

"I know what I _can_ do, Gregory. It's what I _should_ do that's bothering me." At that moment, her stomach grumbled.

"Let's go eat lunch first. The food will help us think better," Gregory proposed.

"Alright. But we'll continue this afterward, right?" she clarified.

"Of course." They went to lunch together.

When they entered the Dining Hall, everyone else at their regular table was already seated, waiting for them. That is, all the teenagers. Voldemort and Snape were sitting at a different table, discussing business with a few others. They were on the opposite side of the room, but from where he was sitting, Voldemort could still see Bobbi. Since her husband was not present to sit by her, Bobbi was seated between Gregory and Jake, who was feeling particularly gutsy.

Ripe with boyish attitude (and also unaware of Voldemort's presence) Jake decided to break yet another rule, one that would get him in much more trouble than the first one he'd broken. A smart person would know not to try anything with the Dark Lord's wife, and had it not been for the fact that Jake's testosterone was getting the better of him, he might have realized just how stupid this course of action would be. And unfortunately, this type of rule breaking was intolerable.

Voldemort, as he peered over at them periodically, did not notice any abnormalities in behavior, and since he had not been informed of Jake's love for Bobbi, he did not know what to (nor even that he should) look for. He was simply observing then out of habit, not because he was suspicious, for who would be stupid enough to mess with his wife?

As the meal dragged on, Jake grew more and more antsy, and as much good as it would have done him, he did not let this idea slip away. Rather, he focused on it, letting it fester until it was at the point of exploding. And when he reached this level of giddy anticipation, he could no longer repress it, and decided now to act on his urge.

Consequently, just as Voldemort was looking up, he did this. Without warning, he grabbed Bobbi's face in a gently, romantic gesture, brought her lips to his, and kissed her hungrily. Complete silence enveloped the table as they observed the audacity before them.

Swiftly, Bobbi brought back her fist and punched Jake hard in the jaw. Startled, he pulled back and released her, rubbing his jaw. "Ow!"

Bobbi whipped out her wand and pointed it furiously at him. "Never," she shouted, "under any circumstances are you allowed to kiss me! Never!"

The force of her anger caused him to fall backward out of his seat and onto the floor. "I'm sorry," he whimpered, throwing his arms in front of his face defensively.

She jerked her wand-wielding hand toward the door. "Leave," she commanded.

"But I thought you loved me," he squeaked, tears filling his eyes.

"I DO NOT LOVE YOU!" she yelled frustrated. She pointed harshly at the door, "Leave!"

Voldemort stood rigidly from his seat and marched straight to their table.

Unaware of his approaching, Jake didn't move. "I'm sorry, Bobbi. I didn't mean-"

"Oh, what didn't you mean? You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew I wouldn't approve. You knew you were breaking rules. Don't tell me you didn't mean. I know what you meant! I'm not stupid, Jake. Now leave!"

"But what about us?" he persisted.

"_THERE IS NO US!_" she jerked up dangerously, teeth bared, wand pointed directly at his heart. "Don't make me tell you again," she threatened through clenched teeth, indicating the door.

He shifted under her intense glare, but made no move to get up. He was publicly defying her, and she would not have that. "Crucio," she muttered, and he cried out in pain. But the curse was short lived. It was only a warning. But he did not take the hint. He continued to disobey her.

However, Voldemort was not as lenient. In an intense rage, he jerked Jake - by his hair - off the floor and thrust him toward the door. He ripped out his own wand and pointed it menacingly at him. He glared at the boy, disgusted. "Crucio!" he snarled, and again the boy cried out. He stumbled toward the door, but fell immediately, crashing to the floor and writhing in pain and agony. Voldemort held the curse for a while longer, then paused, giving the boy an opportunity to leave.

At this point, Gregory was also on his feet, wand at the ready. He squatted next to Jake, and when he had his attention, snapped, "Now, get out before I rip your balls off," just loud enough for him to hear. He stood and kicked Jake in the ribs.

Trembling in fear, Jake stole out off the room, out of the Lair, never to return.

With Jake gone, Voldemort turned to Bobbi, an angry glare still on his face. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but his face softened to a worried expression, and clasping her shoulders, he asked, "Did he hurt you?" He looked her over a bit.

"Physically, no," she answered, "But I feel violated."

Voldemort hugged her to his chest. "Stupid wolf-boy," he muttered.

"I will personally chase him down and kill him, Master," Gregory offered, "If you want."

"He is dangerous to us, now that he knows our secret," Voldemort grumbled, "We shouldn't have let him go." He turned to look at Gregory. "Yes, go. Take some others. Quickly."

Gregory took off out the door without another word, followed shortly by a few others, including Greyback who was extremely fast. The hunt was on.

"Back to your eating," commanded Snape. Voldemort and Bobbi slipped out of the Hall and into the hall, completely alone now.

They walked swiftly down the hallway, going no particular direction. Finally, Bobbi decided to let him in on the secret. "Tom," she began.

"It's okay, Bobbi. I know you didn't want him to do that. Don't explain. It's okay."

"I am so sorry," she whispered.

He stopped. "Sorry for what? He kissed you, not the other way around."

"I should have told you," she breathed shakily, "I'm sorry."

"Told me what?" He gazed at her, confused, and repeated, "Told me what?"

"The night before he left last time," she began, "he told me he loved me. I should have told you, but I thought I could handle it on my own. Now, I wish I had told you. I'm so so so sorry. But he never meant anything to me, Tom, know that. He was my friend, but nothing more." She turned away from him and continued down the hall alone. She didn't get far before he was back at her side, grabbing her arm gently to stop her.

He turned her toward him, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. She shuddered frequently from her silent sobs, so ashamed she couldn't look at him. He lifted her chin gently, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Look at me," he commanded in a whisper.

Hesitantly, she shifted her gaze to his. "I'm s-soso- sorrrry," she struggled.

"Hey. Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault. You were just protecting your friend. It's alright. I'm not mad," he whispered.

She shook her head, flinging a few tears. "I should have told you. I'm sorry."

"Shh," he soothed, "It's alright. This will all be taken care of soon. Nothing can come between us, especially not this. I love you."

She smiled at him, "I love you, too."

Gently, he took his hand and wiped away her tears, which had stopped flowing. He kissed her forehead. "Everything's gonna be alright. He won't get away with this."

She nodded her head, then hid it against his chest. He stroked her hair lovingly, hugging her as well.

…

Later that afternoon, Gregory and the others returned from their hunt. As soon as he got home, Gregory sought out Bobbi. He pulled her to the side to tell her a secret. "I didn't kill him," he whispered, "I didn't think you would want me to, so instead I wiped his memory. I made sure he wouldn't be able to find the Lair again. But he's still alive."

"Thank you, Gregory," she sighed.

"No problem," he smiled. Again he repressed the question that was eating away at him because again it was not the right time.

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**A/N: I hope you've enjoyed this… revealing chapter. And sorry for the wait - life can be very demanding at times. I promise to update sooner next time if you leave more reviews. **

**PS: I know that my spells are confused, but understand that it is for the purpose of enhancing the quality of the story.**


	13. Death or Redemption?

_Disclaimer: It shall henceforth be known that I do not own Harry Potter._

**A/N: Buy a computer and read my story. That is all I have to say.**

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Things weren't much different without Jake around. Of course, nearly everyone gave Bobbi a bit more room, just to make sure they didn't look like they were getting too personal with her. But otherwise, life continued as usual. There were still raids periodically. Gregory continued to repress his question.

At one point, Voldemort told Bobbi that he was looking for more female recruits, single ladies to keep the boys busy so that another "incident" didn't occur.

Then one day, Fenrir came in with some interesting news. "I think I might have uncovered Harry Potter's secret hideout."

"Where?" Voldemort asked, immediately interested.

"When I was running through the woods last night, I came across a small tent with 3 teens in it, 2 boys - a red-head and a raven-haired - and one girl. The black-haired boy had a scar on his forehead and also glasses. I didn't recognize the other 2, but I think they were _together_."

"Weasley and Granger, definitely," Draco assumed with a smirk.

"Were they alone?" Voldemort asked.

"I think so, but they might have had friends nearby. Or backup."

"They are alone," Bobbi said, "They wouldn't have brought friends way out here and not kept them close enough to see. Plus, if they had, the girl wouldn't have been staying in their tent with them. Clearly they're alone, and they're up to no good."

"Your orders, Sir?" Snape asked.

He looked at Fenrir, "How long ago was this?"

"I saw them last night, Sir, right around midnight. I would have come in sooner, but I was in my werewolf form and wasn't thinking straight."

Voldemort stood, "Send troops immediately!"

"Master?" Bobbi began. He looked at her curiously. She never called him Master. "May I request a special assignment for this one?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, on the off chance that you won't get to them before they leave, may I set off alone first and temporarily join their little group so that I can track them myself and send word of their location back to you?"

Voldemort considered her idea. "Bobbi, that's… not a bad idea. It's actually rather clever. Yes, carry out your plan immediately."

She smiled. "Thank you, Volders."

Minutes later, Bobbi was running through the woods, searching for this small camp that would be her redemption for all the mistakes she'd been making lately. But as she went deeper and deeper into the woods, she started to fear that they had already left. But suddenly she smelt smoke, and her spirit flared with hope. She followed the scent into a clearing. But when she came upon it, she found something different waiting for her.

"Hello, Bobbi," Jake greeted her, stepping out of the shadow with a maniacal grin widening his face hideously.

Bobbi's hope turned to horror. "Oh, no! You didn't-"

"Yes, Bobbi. I Imperio'd Greyback. I knew you would be the first to get here. I remember you telling me about the plan you had to pretend to be on Potter's side in order to track them. I knew you would insist on coming alone first. Even if it only gives us a few minutes alone, I'll take it."

"Jake, don't," Bobbi cautioned, flashing her eyes dangerously. She glared hard at him.

But he ignored her warning, and began to approach her. "I know you still love me, Bobbi. That's why you couldn't let Goyle kill me. That's why you gave me so much warning. That's why you didn't kick me out. That's why you wouldn't tell anyone what I said. Because you know, deep down inside, that you feel the same way."

"I'm warning you," she threatened, pulling out her wand.

"Put that away," he laughed frighteningly, only a few feet away, "The only _wand_ we'll be using is mine."

Now she started to back away, clear of his intensions. "Jake, please," she begged, "Don't make me hurt you."

"The only one who will get hurt is your _Volders_," he spat the name.

At this, she raised her wand to the sky and shot up the "HELP" sign. "Leave quickly, before they come," she warned.

Jake shook his head smugly. "It's too late, Bobbi. You're not getting away this time." Suddenly, he lurched at her, knocking her to the ground.

She scrambled away from him and took off running. "Help!" she shouted.

But she didn't get far before he knocked her down again, pressing her to the ground with his body. She struggled free, punching him in the nose and fleeing as he reacted. But she was still slower than him, and he recovered fast. This time when he knocked her to the ground, he took her wand and bound her arms together, trapping her underneath him. She struggled to move, but it did no good without the use of her arms. "Help!" she screamed.

But Jake wouldn't have that. He pressed her hard against the ground with his body, laying flat on top of her now, and covered her mouth with his hand. "Quiet or they'll find us," he whispered. At that moment they heard voices.

Bobbi bit Jake's hand, sinking her fangs into his fingers. The venom was so painful, he let go, and again she shouted, "Help!"

Now, they could see people running through the woods toward them. "Bobbi!" they called as they approached.

"Over here!" she yelled, "It was Jake!"

"Jake?!" she heard her husband repeat. He appeared immediately in front of them, a blazing hatred present in his eyes. Upon seeing them, he physically picked Jake up and threw him against a tree. Then he turned his attention back to Bobbi, pulling her gently off the ground and hugging her to his chest, "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Yes!" she sobbed.

He turned back to Jake and shouted, "Crucio!" He shouted over at Gregory, "I thought you killed him!"

"I thought I did too!" Gregory exclaimed. The others were around them now.

Jake cackled insanely, "That was a decoy."

"You sick monster!" Gregory yelled.

"I'll end this once and for all," Voldemort declared, pointing his wand. "Av-"

But Jake was quicker. "Avada Kedavra," he said, pointing Bobbi's wand at Voldemort. Voldemort flew backward, landing hard on the ground. Bobbi fell to the ground as this happened. She stood up quickly, shaking off the leaves. However, Voldemort did not move. Nor did Jake, who stared in horror at what he had done.

Bobbi hastened to Voldemort's aid, dropping to her knees beside him. "Volders?" she whispered, shaking him gently. He didn't stir. Worried, she held her hand over his open mouth. Her brow furrowed further. She checked his pulse, at each wrist and also at his neck. Nothing. She pressed her ear to his chest. The surrounding area was silent as she listened, pressing harder and harder into his chest, straining to hear something, anything, just a sign that he wasn't dead.

"Does he even have a heart?" Blaise muttered to Draco, who shrugged.

"He does have a heart," Bobbi snapped, jerking her head around to glare at them, eyes suddenly ablaze. But the fire was quickly extinguished with tears. Again she pressed her ear firmly over his heart. "Come on, come on," she whispered.

"Bobbi," Gregory whispered sympathetically.

"Shh; I can't hear."

"It's no use, Bobbi. There is nothing to hear. I'm sorry."

Bobbi pulled her head up to stare at him, but it wasn't a look of hatred or denial she gave him. It was a look of painful understanding, and he realized that she knew he was gone, but she didn't want to.

She stared back at her husband, a long, indescribably emotional stare, conveying all her hidden feelings with only her eyes. But he would never get the message she was sending him. She stood unstably from her knelling position, then turned slowly toward Jake, who had not moved from the ground. Her eyes were deathly red as she lifted her hand and summoned her wand from Jake's hand. _This wand killed my husband_, was her first thought, then, _No. That boy killed my husband. That boy is all the cause of my pain. He has destroyed my life. He will _pay. In a cold, dead tone, she whispered, "Crucio." She let her soul control the spell, pouring all her negative emotions into it; all her anger, hatred, resentment, went coursing through her wand and straight into Jake's heart.

Jake writhed in burning agony. Never had he felt this much pain, even from Voldemort's Crucio. But this was Bobbi, and he held torn her; now he was going to suffer for it.

Suddenly she stopped, and he looked up at her in astonishment, expecting her to continue. But he was more afraid now that she had stopped. Her eyes were dead rose red entirely, all except for the black pupil. Her normally perfect hair was bushy, frizzy, and insane. In addition, it was rapidly turning black, as opposed to its natural blonde. And - most dangerous and frightening of all - her fangs were extending quickly. They slid over her bottom lip until she opened her mouth to give them more room. "Run," she growled roughly in a demonic voice. She put her wand away so that her clawed hands would be free to tear him apart. Jake scrambled up and took off. But Bobbi was right behind him. She tackled him to the ground viciously, ripping some flesh from his back. He screeched, struggling free. He transformed into a werewolf, but still didn't stand a chance against her as she tore him limb from limb and tossed his shredded body around the forest. When she was thoroughly positive that he was dead, she left the pieces of him scattered in that secluded area and returned to the others. Before appearing through the brush, she righted herself with a spell, then continued on.

Back in the clearing, no one had moved. They all stared terrified at her, waiting for her command. Voldemort laid untouched in the grass where he had landed. Without a word, Bobbi swept him up in her arms, cradling him as he had her so many times before, and led the group through the woods back toward home.

…

The party that made their way through the trees looked mournful and dispirited to the large flock of Death Eaters awaiting the return of their brothers and masters in the field between the Lair and the woods. They had been waiting for 2 possible signs: the signal to join the fight, or the signal to return home. This was the signal to return home, but it also bore a more distressing meaning: someone had died.

The crowd strained their necks anxiously, trying to find out why the proceeding was so distraught. When the men at the front of the crowd saw Bobbi emerging from the trees, they shouted in relief to the others, "Bobbi's alive!" But a second later, another message came, "The Dark Lord is dead!"

At this, the congregation lurched forward, bunching together at the head of the group, yet made no move to overstep the first line of soldiers, like they wanted to get a closer look, but were afraid to get too close.

Bobbi continued towards the gathering, leading her group of silent, head-bowing followers back to the Lair. As she approached the awaiting group, they began to part straight down the middle, giving her a wide aisle of space, for they knew not to get in her way while she carried her fallen husband. She walked down the aisle without any recognition of her surroundings. Her face was an emotional blank, and she looked dutiful as she carried her master rigidly through the crowd, honoring a lost captain.

When she had passed completely through the crowd, it turned as a unit and followed her back to the Lair, heads bowed respectfully. No one offered to carry the Dark Lord for her; she was to take his place when he moved on, and she would bare the burden alone. But to Bobbi, it was not a burden - neither to carry him nor to take his place - for she was more than strong enough to do both. The only burden would be the grief of his loss tormenting her. But otherwise, she was ready for this. She would bare it with pride and dignity.

…

Hours later, Gregory walked into the darkened chamber where his former master had been laid. He had been in and out of the room several times in the last ten minutes, trying to build up enough courage to actually say something. He stopped right behind Bobbi, who was in a chair beside Voldemort's body, her head resting on his cold, unmoving chest. Gregory thought that she must be asleep since she hadn't stirred at all while he had been pacing through the room. But suddenly she spoke in a clear whisper, "I need help, Gregory."

Softly, he responded, "How can I help?"

"He's gone, Gregory," she sniffled, "He's not coming back. This isn't like when I died. You didn't have evidence that I was dead when the plane crashed. And the second time, I woke up a few seconds later. But he's not waking up. He's been gone from his body for 12 hours, and he's not gonna wake up. He can't recover. He can't come back. He's dead."

"So, how can I help?" he pleaded.

She sat up and turned to look at him with her no-longer-bright, fuchsia eyes. They were so dull, it hurt him. They were as dead as her husband, and Gregory wondered if, like him, they wouldn't recover. She hadn't cried when he'd died, which worried Gregory, because although it would have pained him to see her cry, it pained him even more that she was baring it all in silence. Her eyes didn't even swim as she beheld him. They just stared blankly. But as they stared at each other in this dark, forlorn tomb, her expression began to crumble, and she stretched out her arms to him, looking as helpless as a frail, newborn baby.

He picked her up easily, cradling her as a loving parent cradles an upset child. She buried her face in his shirt, and he carried her to her old room, shutting and locking the door behind them. He laid her down on the bed, and she curled up fetal position. He sat down beside her, but she pulled at his arm weakly, and he knew what she wanted. Gently, he laid down next to her and hugged her to his warm, comforting chest. And they fell asleep together.

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**A/N: Thank you to all my loyal viewers. A special thanks to Crazzi Turdi for alerting me to my misspelling of a crucial spell. I have gone back and rectified that mistake. Thanks so much for all the reviews!**


	14. Admitting Is the First Step

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. You don't own Harry Potter. Now we're even._

**A/N: Here's another short chapter. Seeing as we are nearing the end of the story with only a few chapters left, I will award all my readers who have been faithful a virtual doughnut each. Enjoy!**

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The death of the Dark Lord was not taken as roughly as the death of Bobbi had been. His funeral was very quiet and rather awkward. What could be said about an evil wizard? Bobbi was not as depressed as Voldemort had been. She took on full responsibility of her new position as Dark Empress and made sure that the Death Eaters stayed strong and focused even without Voldemort. However, even though she tried to hide her emotions, everyone could see the toll it was taking on her spirit. She barely smiled anymore, and did not play with her little friends as she had before.

This upset Gregory, not because she wouldn't talk to him - for she often confessed all her feelings to him long into the night - but because he could feel the pain it caused her, and her pain caused him pain. And now, more than ever, the question which he had been repressing for so long bit at him like a wild pack of dogs, but he continued to restrain it for fear that it would hurt her, because such a question would bring forth too many feelings while the wound to her heart was still fresh.

On a night of no particular significance, Gregory peeked in on Bobbi as she slept. He had done this every night since Voldemort's death, just to check that she was alright. This time, when he opened her door, a blast of frigid air hit him. Startled, he hurried, into the room to determine the source. The first thing he noticed was that the air cooler was on full blast, as cold as it could go. He shut that off immediately. The second thing he noticed was the open window. He stumbled across the shadowed floor and closed it. Then he turned back to the door to leave, but froze in his tracks. There was just enough moonlight shining in from the window to allow Gregory to see that there was a quivering figure on the bed. On instinct, he pulled out his wand and breathed, "Lumos." Cautiously, he brought his light to the figure, and realized it was Bobbi. She was nearly naked - all except for a black thong and matching bra - sprawled purposefully on top of the covers, eyes squeezed shut but clearly conscious, shivering and damp. In her hand she held a gleaming razor. "Bobbi, what?" Gregory asked in a pained voice.

"Stupid blade wouldn't cut," Bobbi mumbled in an unsteady, trembling voice.

Gregory took the razor from her hand and set it aside where she couldn't reach it. Shutting the door to the hall, he turned back to Bobbi and shook her lightly. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter and tried to roll out of his grasp, but he didn't let her. "Bobbi, why?"

"Just let me suffer," she moaned. She stroked her wrist. "Didn't even make a mark."

"Bobbi, why are you doing this to yourself?"

"I have nothing to live for," she answered bitterly, "My husband's dead. I don't even have a purpose for continuing this anymore."

"That's no reason to kill yourself."

"Kill myself?" she chuckled bitterly, "Kill myself! What an idea! As if I could even cause the slightest bit of damage to myself. Not physically anyway. It would be merciful if I could die. Being alone is a fate worse than death."

"But you're not alone. You have everyone in this castle supporting you. We believe in you. We can help you through this."

"But no one loves me."

"Of course they do."

"No one loves me like Tom did."

Gregory fought back his tears. He didn't reply. The silence disturbed Bobbi. She opened her eyes hesitantly to look at him. Tears began to well in her eyes, and she took his silence the wrong way, "See, you know it's true. Nobody loves me for me."

"No, Bobbi," he whispered, taking her hand, "You're wrong. There is someone who has loved you longer than he has."

She stared at him, eyes swimming, and squeaked, "Who?"

He took a deep breath. "Me," he admitted, "I have loved you ever since I laid eyes on you. And I want you to know I will always be here for you, no matter what you do. We could run away together tonight if you wanted. I'll do anything for you."

"Do you really mean it?" she squeaked.

He nodded his head, "Yes."

She smiled at him, "Oh, Gregory, that's so sweet." She squeezed his hand softly.

They smiled at each other. Suddenly, Bobbi shivered violently.

"Bobbi," Gregory panicked.

"S-s-s-so cold-d-d," Bobbi stuttered.

"You must be freezing," Gregory deduced. He picked her up gingerly and slipped her under the covers. Then, stripping down to only his boxers, he joined her under the covers, wrapping his thick, muscular arms around her and hugging her closely into his chest. "Body heat is warmer," he explained needlessly.

"I know," she whispered, snuggling into his chest.

She was freezing against his bare skin, and being mostly naked with her was not as arousing as Gregory had thought it would be. But right now, his job was not to "love" her. His job was to protect her, to heal her, and he would not let his hormones get in the way of that. Not tonight.

…

The next morning, they woke up together, warm and safe in each other's arms. Gregory looked down at her with a smile. She was so small next to him, maybe half his size. It seemed strange to Gregory that Bobbi always ended up with men much bigger than her. Voldemort was twice her height, and he was twice her width.

"Good morning, Tiny," he smiled.

"Good night," she replied, hiding her face in his burly chest. She added, "It's too bright for morning."

"It's nearly 6 am. The sun's barely out yet."

"It's still enough to disturb me," she complained.

"I'll shut the blinds, then," he said, starting to get out of the bed.

"No!" Bobbi protested, holding onto him tightly. "Let me do it." She flicked her wrist at the window, and immediately the blinds covered it, blocking out the dim horizon.

They settled back together in the dark serenity.

"Hold me tight," Bobbi whispered in a tear-choked voice. She pressed herself closer into him.

Gregory wrapped his arms comfortingly around her shoulders and back. His arms were so thick and her back so short that they nearly covered the whole of it. He stroked her jawbone affectionately. She breathed in deep, arching her back a little. "Sorry," Gregory apologized.

"No, don't be sorry," she whispered, "I like it."

"May I have permission to do it again?"

"M-hm," she answered.

He took his fingers and trailed them softly down her face. "You're so beautiful."

She breathed a short chuckle, "You're biased. You haven't seen any other young females in over a year."

"Doesn't matter. You're still beautiful." They laid in silence for a few minutes while he gently caressed her face. Then he asked softly, "Do you want to talk?"

"For once," she began, "I just want to listen. You talk. I never ask about your feelings, and now I'm curious. How are you?"

Gregory paused to think. Should he asked the question? Decidedly, he said, "I'm confused."

She chuckled. "'Bout what?"

"Our relationship. There's something I've been meaning to ask you for a while, but I've been waiting for the right time." He paused.

"Go on," she urged.

"Well, I'm afraid to ask. It's a very personal question and it's probably very awkward."

"I'm not afraid to tell you anything, and you shouldn't be afraid to tell me anything."

"I'm just afraid it will bring up some painful emotions and memories," he explained.

She thought about it, "If you promise not to leave me, I promise I can handle it."

"I promise."

"Then continue."

He took a deep breath. "Do you love me?"

He felt her back stiffen. He started to unwrap his arms from her, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"Hey! What are you doing? You promised you wouldn't leave," she complained.

Gregory amended surprised, "I'm sorry; I thought you were going to kick me out."

"No. You are not getting out of this. You asked the question. We made a deal. I will answer, and you will put your arms back around me," she snapped.

"Yes ma'am," he obeyed.

She chuckled, softening her voice, "Since when am I 'ma'am'? Don't call me that. It makes me feel like I'm sleeping with my son. I mean, I know I'm pureblood, but incest still isn't appealing," she joked.

He chuckled. "So, you're not mad at me?"

"No. Would you like me to answer your question?"

"Only if you want to."

She sighed, "Let's try this again. From the top. How are you?"

He paused "Confused about our relationship. There's something I want to ask you."

"Ask me anything."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes." She kissed his chin, the closest thing to his lips she could reach from her position.

"You do?" he asked, shocked.

"Yeah. Why do you think I confide all my secrets in you? Why do you think I trusted you with things I couldn't even trust my… him with? I tell you everything because I trust you, and I know you, and I-" she looked into his eyes with a genuine smile, "I love you. I've told you all along that you're my best friend, but deep down inside, that title's always felt like it's not good enough for you."

Gregory smiled at her radiantly. "You have no idea how great that makes me feel." He wriggled lower under the covers so that his face was even with hers. Slowly, the two brought their lips together in a long, passionate kiss. Gregory rubbed her back gently as they kissed. Bobbi tangled her fingers in his hair. And suddenly, he felt his boxers slipping. He pulled away from her to find her fingers in the top of his boxers. "Bobbi, what are you doing?"

She looked at him, confused, then looked down at her fingers, and gaped in horror, "Oh, gaw, I am so sorry." She let go of him and pulled away, "I am so so sorry. You must hate me now." She turned away from him, hiding her face, "I knew I wasn't ready for this."

Gregory pulled her gently back towards him. She was crying but trying to hide it. "Bobbi, I - if you want…"

"No, no. You're right. I don't want to. I'm not ready. I just… I don't know what's wrong with me. I just… can't help it." She tried to turn away again, but he held her in place and pulled her back to himself.

"Hey. It's okay. You're just not ready for another relationship. I understand. Don't cry. It's not your fault." Then he added jokingly, "I know it's hard to keep your hands off my gorgeous body."

She chuckled. Then she looked at him sadly, "Are you mad at me?"

"No," he smiled, wiping away a tear.

"I was telling the truth," she clarified, "when I told you I love you. I do. I don't want you to think I told you that just to get you in bed, cuz I didn't. I do love you."

"And I believe you," he promised, "I just think we should take it slow. I've waited so long for you, I don't want to force you into anything."

She smiled, "I don't want to force _you_ into anything."

He chuckled. They snuggled back together.

30 minutes later, Gregory broke the peaceful silence with a sigh. "I better get back to my room before anyone notices I'm gone," he told her.

"I'll miss you, but you're right. We don't want anyone to catch on, not yet at least. We don't want them to feel like we're betraying his memory or something."

"I'll see you at breakfast," he said with a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she smiled back.

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**A/N: Tune in for the next chapter, and another doughnut shall be given to you. Collect them all! PS: Please R&R! It will make my day.**


	15. You Belong With Me

_Disclaimer: It should go without saying that I don't own the Harry Potter characters, but alas I must remind you every time I update because someone in the government commands it of me._

**A/N: You have maybe 3 more chapters after this. Please don't cry, it'll all be okay. Just read and review and do as I say.**

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For the next week, they met in her room around midnight every night, and he would stay with her until about 6:30 every morning. And then the time came for Gregory's birthday.

The night before his birthday, Bobbi was pacing about her room, deliberating. She wasn't sure whether she should give him this present or not. She kinda wanted to, but at the same time she didn't. This was the present she had given Tom, and though she loved this boy dearly, she wasn't sure if she could handle doing the same thing for her current love as she had done for her previous love, especially when his death was so recent and she still loved him. She wanted to share this with Gregory, but this had been something special between her and Tom. But she had done lots of men in the past, and all but 2 of them she didn't even like that much. She had never held back before when she wanted this so badly. So why was she conflicted now? Tom was dead, not she. She was no longer bound by the promises of matrimony. Still, she could not decide which way to go.

As she paced back and forth, a knock came at her door. She glanced at her clock. Only 10 o'clock. It was too early for Gregory to be here. She opened her door hesitantly.

"Good evening, Miss Bobbi," Snape greeted her.

"Ah, Snape. So good to see you. I totally forgot about out meeting. I apologize."

"That's alright, Master. We all make mistakes. Would you like to discuss it here or in the meeting room?"

"The meeting room is preferable," she answered.

They walked swiftly through the Lair until they reached the meeting room. They seated themselves directly across from each other.

"Now," Snape began, "Are you sure you want to do this? I thought you were doing just fine with Mr. Goyle."

"Gregory can't help me with this," Bobbi explained, "It's somewhat about him."

"I see. Well, I'm ready when you are."

Bobbi smiled. "Do you remember the puppet show you wrote for my birthday?"

"Ah, yes. I remember it."

"I know it was just a play, but you did correctly predict that I would marry Voldemort. Well, lately I've been thinking about a particular thing my character said, and it's been bothering me."

"Which part is that?" Snape asked.

"The part when 'I' said that 'my powers of seduction worked well to my advantage.' I just want to ask you something. Do you think they really will? It was, after all, my seductive charm that caused all my boy troubles. I've told you all about Jake's fetish for me and his plan he had that led him to… do the unspeakable. All things considered, it seems that my 'powers of seduction' have only made me life hell."

"Let me ask you something. Have you ever been denied any reasonable object you wanted when you asked a man for it?"

She pondered that. "I don't think so. The only person who ever dared to defy my wishes, excluding my father, was Jake, and he died for it. I see what you mean, though. I get almost everything I want because I'm a seductress. So maybe you were right. Maybe they do work well to my advantage. And maybe this whole mess will work out, too. I mean, of course I will miss Tom, but now I will be able to do those things I couldn't while he was alive. Oh, what am I saying? It sounds like I think his death was a good thing. I will never be the same without him. I loved him. I've never loved anyone as much as him. And now I've already got another boyfriend so soon after his death. Don't you see, Snape? I'm not right in the head. I'm so messed up, I don't even care anymore. I'm making the worst mistakes and it's all because I'm a stupid little slut who can't be happy with just one man. It's gotten so bad, I can't even tell anymore when I'm really in love and when I'm just faking it."

"Did you really love him?" Snape asked.

Bobbi closed her eyes. She answered with a confident voice, "Yes. He was my first true love. I know he was my soul mate. If I had never met him, I wouldn't be confused and hurting now. But if I had never met him, I also would have never known what love really felt like. But because of his death, I can't think right anymore. I can't tell whether I really love Gregory of whether I just need him to cling to for support. Of course my love for him is not as strong as my love for Tom. If it was at all possible, I would kill myself for Tom. I tried to kill myself recently. I think I told you about that. That was when Gregory admitted his true feelings for me."

Of course Snape knew about these things. Snape knew everything. He was the one person Bobbi trusted _all_ of her secret with. He knew everything, even her real age and her life story. He knew more than Gregory, more than Tom, more than Ryan. He even knew more than her father, who didn't even know about Voldemort's death. The news of his death had not and would not leave the castle as long as it could be helped. Snape had been there for her when Voldemort had died. He was the first to comfort her, not Gregory. Gregory had been afraid to ask her about her feelings because he didn't want to upset her even further. But Snape had understood her need to vent all her feelings, even the ones that were dangerous. And in return, Snape told Bobbi everything - about his life, about his love for Harry's mother; and with time, he had even come to trust her with his deepest, darkest, most dangerous secret: he was a double agent. He was almost as confused about his true alliance as Bobbi was about hers. But his indecision made sense. Hers lacked logical reasoning. It was this mutation of mind that brought the two together. Neither really understood why they trusted each other with such fatal information, for neither had romantic feelings for the other. They were best friends, but only deep inside where no one else could know or recognize the strange bond. And it felt odd to Bobbi to be able to trust someone so deeply when she didn't even love him. Her feelings for him were strange, bizarre, not like any other she had ever felt or heard of. It was almost a love, but not love like that for Tom, not love like that for her father or Stella, not love like that for a friend. It was somewhere between a family love and a friend love, yet on an entirely different scale. And it wasn't really a love. It was an unexplainable bond that wove them together without complication. They had to know everything about each other, they had to accept it, and they had to be utterly loyal to each other.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do now," Bobbi sighed. "I have control over the Death Eaters. I can stop all the attacks and tell them that the war is over. But will that really stop the fighting? This has been an issue for too long. Can it really be stopped so easily? I mean, can such a small person as I undo everything that has been done by this selfish war?"

"You could never make up for all the lives lost," Snape reminded her bitterly.

Bobbi reached across the table and took Snape's hand comfortingly. "I know."

"Nothing could replace or restore them. No words can mend a broken heart."

"I know that just as well as you, Severus." She squeezed his hand comfortingly.

There was a moment of silence. Then Snape asked, "Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, there is one thing. It's Gregory's birthday tomorrow…" she trailed off guiltily.

Snape's eyes widened. "That's a big step so soon. Are you sure you want to take it?"

"No, I'm not. That's why I want to talk to you about it. I don't know if I'm ready. I mean, I want to, but I don't know if I'll be able to handle it. It's not even been a month yet, and I haven't nearly recovered. But I want to share this with him. I just don't know if I can get through it."

"You have to want to for the right reasons. You can't just do it because you think it's the right thing to do. And you can't do it only for his sake. You have to be completely committed, both of you."

"Well, I know Gregory isn't taking advantage of me. He's such a sweet guy; he would never do anything to hurt me. The night I broke down and Gregory came to stay with me, I made a move on him. But he told me no because he knew I wasn't ready. And he won't leave me, I know that. I've tried to get rid of him in the past. He told me himself that he's waited so long for me to return his love that he wouldn't do anything to mess it up. He loves me, more than I love him. But you're right. I do kinda want to because I think I owe it to him. He's been so good to me, he deserves it."

"I've been here for you longer," Snape mutter under his breath.

"What was that?" she asked, although she already knew.

"I said that's not a very good reason," he amended almost convincingly.

"Snape, if I heard correctly, you said -"

"It's not about what I said. It's about you," he snapped.

Bobbi was taken aback. "Severus, if you don't want me to have sex with him, just say so. I asked for you opinion because I trust you. If you think it's a bad idea, I won't do it. Now, what did you say?"

"I said I've been here for you longer. By that, I meant it wasn't a good reason. You can't just sleep with every boy who will listen to you talk. You'd have one crazy life if you did, what with all your friends and followers."

Bobbi sighed and nodded her head. "You're right, Severus. You usually are. And I know I'm not ready for this. But I can't spend the rest of my life recovering from Tom's death," she flinched, but continued, "I have to live, and part of living is loving. So when do you think the best time would be for me to give in to my feelings for Gregory?"

"Never," he whispered so low that she just barely understood it.

She gaped at him in shock. "Severus, I don't understand. What do you mean by this? You don't -" But then she looked into his eyes and saw something that explained it all to her. "Oh, no. I completely forgot. Today is her -"

"Her birthday," Snape finished, nodding his head. He averted his eyes from hers and took a deep, shuddering breath. And now the pain was clear on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Severus. I've been so selfish, I didn't even realize. I should have recognized it. I'm so selfish."

Snape swallowed. "It still hurts, even the good memories," he whispered in a tear-clouded voice.

Bobbi stood from her seat and walked swiftly to Snape's side, hugging him to her chest. He buried his face in her shirt, stifling his tears and clinging to her for support. She held his head carefully, comfortingly, and rubbed his back. "Just let it all out," she cooed softly, "Tears are good." And now she was crying too, crying for both Lily and Tom. Tom was the cause of Lily's death, the cause of dear Severus's pain, but she still loved him as deeply. And it pained her, too. All the memories - the touch of his hand on her back, the feel of his bare chest, the taste of his lips - so fresh in her mind, torturing her with what she could no longer have, what was taken from her because of her own foolishness. She was a part of all this horror. Voldemort killed Lily, Jake killed Voldemort, and she killed Jake. At least she knew that that line of terror would end with her, because no matter how bad she wanted it, she could not be killed. She could not die, and so she would have to suffer with this guilt for the rest of eternity. And as her grief consumed her, she felt herself being pulled into something strange and unexpected. Suddenly she was kissing Severus, and not just wanting it, but _needing_ it. And he was kissing her back, no, kissing her too, because he wanted it and needed it also. And yet as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, like the same entity had possessed and controlled both at once, then lost control of both as well. It was strange and involuntary, for they had been of the same mind, but it was not a familiar mind they had been in. And now they held each other awkwardly close, yet neither felt awkward. However, neither knew what to say, for they did not understand what had compelled them to do this, and yet they did not regret it.

After a very long moment of silence, Bobbi whispered, "I won't give in to him, Severus." She didn't know exactly why she had said this, but she believed it to be true. And as she said it, she felt that their bond was changing.

...

She returned to her room at around midnight. Gregory was already there waiting for her. "Where have you been?" he asked as she entered the room.

"I needed to talk to Snape," she answered simply, "I do, after all, have to run this castle."

"Oh," he said, his anger extinguished. Now he felt guilty, "Sorry. I know you have a duty to uphold. I guess I'm being selfish with you, aren't I?"

She smiled, "It's okay. We're all a bit selfish sometimes." She walked casually up to him and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him, then asked, "Should I get dressed?"

He cracked a smile, "I think I'm overindulging in my guilty pleasures." Then his face dropped and he looked away from her. "There is something," he unwrapped her arms gently from him, "that I need to talk to you about, but I'm not sure how to say it." He looked into her eyes, "I know about what happened the last birthday," he hinted.

Her smile dropped too, "Oh. You do?"

"Yeah. I know, I'm a creeper. But I just wanted to tell you that I don't want that for us. I don't think either of us are ready for it."

She smiled at him, touched, "Oh, Gregory. That's so sweet of you, to think of me. I've been worrying about it all day."

"Yeah, I knew something was bothering you. It took me till dinner to figure it out. But listen, Bobbi. We don't have to rush into things. We can take our time. We're both still so young, we've got more than enough time. And I don't wanna do anything that could hurt you. You mean too much to me."

"Aw, that's so sweet. I'm touched, Gregory. You're the best boyfriend ever." She stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed him. Then she pulled away, saying, "But I do need to change my clothes. It's bedtime."

"Do I get a show tonight, or do I still have to cover my eyes?" he joked.

"The show is tomorrow night. I don't want to spoil your birthday by giving you your present early."

"Fine. I'll sit in the bathroom."

* * *

At the end of the week, Bobbi was even more confused emotionally than she'd ever been before. She used to be so sure of herself, even in the stickiest situations. But all these real, strong feelings were messing with her badly. She'd never loved so many guys at once before. In fact, she'd never loved any guys like this before she joined the Death Eaters. In her 350 years of life, she'd never loved anyone aside from her family, and that love wasn't the same as this love. Now she loved 3 men all at once - Gregory, Severus, and Tom. Tom was dead, and yet she still loved him. She couldn't help but love him. He was her fairytale romance. But since his death, she'd rekindled her love with Gregory and expanded on her love with Severus. But this was all too much for her. In addition to spending every night with Gregory, she spent every afternoon with Severus. Everyone thought that during these meetings, they were discussing attack plans and other obvious things discussed by world dictators, just like Snape and the old master had. They did talk about the future, of course. But the majority of that time was spent on "relationship building." And while Severus knew all about Gregory, Gregory knew nothing about Severus. What would he do if he found out? Bobbi knew he would be crushed, heartbroken. But what would he _do_? That was the question. What to do? That was always the question. But unfortunately, every time she tried to answer that question, life seemed to get worse and worse, and her answers had only created a new problem and brought up the question again, and she feared she would never be able to answer this question. But wait, she had never tried to answer the question herself. She had always asked the opinion of another, and had never decided alone. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she should stop asking others for answers and come up with her own by herself. That's what her husband had done, and he had succeeded tremendously, though he had died before entirely reaching his goal. But he had gotten very far in life without the opinion of others to cloud his own. So perhaps that was the way to go. Yes. But still, what should she do?

Pondering this question, Bobbi sighed. She glanced at her clock, and realized it was time for dinner. Time was so odd these days. Sometimes it flew by so quickly, and other times it dragged on for an eternity.

She hastened down the hallway toward the Dining Hall. However, before she could reach it, the large doors leading to the outside flew open. Curiously, she turned to look at them. Who was it that she saw standing outside in the rain? None other than the Dark Lord Voldemort! He looked at her and smiled. Her heart stopped, and her vision went black.

* * *

**A/N: Cliff-hanger, hanging from a cliff! And that's why he's called cliff-hanger. -- Excuse me for my moment of reminiscing. More to come soon, but only if you review. You gotta review or my life means nothing. NOTHING!! Well, sort of at least.**


	16. One Excessively Long Day

_Disclaimer: Due to the fact that the global government does not trust us, I must inform you that I do not, in fact, own Harry Potter. Now that you know, life can resume._

**A/N: I know my updating schedule is out of whack. I have been out of school this week due to snow, so I've had nothing better to do than update this story (you got lucky; I was going to wait at least a week before I updated again). Please bear with me, and I am sure that we will all make it through to the end of this story. And as always - Enjoy!**

* * *

Bobbi opened her eyes. She was in her bed, on top of the covers. She took a moment to think. It was a dream. It must have been a dream. Tom was dead. She must have fallen asleep. She looked at the clock. Dinner time. Yep, she had been dreaming.

She pushed herself into a sitting position, holding her head in her hands. She sighed disappointedly, "Just a dream."

An abrupt, amused chuckle came from behind her. "I don't think it's a dream," a familiar voice said.

Bobbi turned quickly around to face the owner of the once-lost voice. Leaning against her door post was her allegedly dead husband. He smirked at her. "Hi, honey."

She gaped at him in disbelief, "But, but you're dead. I saw you die. I waited with your body for 12 hours. How could you be back?"

He chuckled. "My secret."

She stared at him skeptically. Then, a smile began to grow on her face, and she reached for him needingly. He swiftly flew to her side and picked her up, spinning her around as he held her and kissed her. She held onto him tightly for fear of losing him again. When their lips parted, with tears running down her cheeks, she whispered, "I missed you so much."

He hugged her close to his body, on the verge of crying. "I swear I'll never leave you again. I missed you too. I love you."

"I love you too, Tom."

They hugged each other in silence for a long time. Then someone banged on her door. "You can't keep him away from us forever, Queen Bobbi. We want to talk to him, too."

They both groaned. Voldemort set her down and wiped away her tears as she wiped the tears off his face as well. With one final kiss, they opened the door and faced the crowd.

* * *

After they had gone to bed, Voldemort decided to tell Bobbi how his secret had saved his life. Whenever any of the Death Eaters had asked how he had survived, he had refused to tell them. But in the safety of their own private room, Voldemort could finally tell his wife.

"Bobbi," he began, "Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

She nodded her head.

"Well," he continued, "a long time ago, when I was in the early stages of my rise to power, I decided that I needed a way to protect myself from Death. So I studied and studied until I came across the idea of Horcruxes. When I had learned more about them, I made six."

"You made six?!" Bobbi exclaimed.

Voldemort nodded. "My last attempt to make one didn't go so well, however. That was the night I killed the Potters. That was the night Harry Potter nearly destroyed me. But I did succeed in making my 6 Horcruxes. And when Jake destroyed that piece of me, another piece of my soul revived. But it was very far away, and I had to go through the process of getting a new body as well. That's why it took me so long to come back."

"I missed you," Bobbi whimpered, sitting in his lap and curling into his chest.

"I missed you, too," Tom whispered, kissing her hair and hugging her tightly.

* * *

At around 2 am that night, Bobbi awoke. The room was pitch black and she couldn't see through her grogginess. Suddenly, she felt despair and lonesomeness gnawing at her. She groped the bed beside her, hoping to find comfort in the arms of her lover, but found the spot to be vacant.

She sat up quickly as panic began to ebb its way into her mind. Where was he? Had she only dreamed that he'd come back? Was she dreaming now? Of course not. She wouldn't be asking that if she was.

She inched across the bed until she found the edge. Then she quickly slung her legs over the side. She held her head between her hands. What was going on? Which memories were real and which were fake? Already, she felt the scenes of his return fading away. She looked around the room. Not another soul in sight. She began to sob uncontrollably into her sweat-dampened hair.

Immediately, a door on the other side of the room opened, spilling light into the room. Bobbi barely noticed it.

A robed figure came out of the brightly lit bathroom. "Bobbi?" he called. He approached her quickly, touching her shoulder, "Bobbi, my love."

She glanced at him, her tears obvious to him now. "Bobbi!" he exclaimed, "What's wrong?"

Her sobbing paused. "Oh, Tom!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "I thought you were still dead," she sobbed into his chest.

"Shh," he coed soothingly, stroking her hair, "It's alright. I'm right here."

"Don't ever leave me again," she sniffled, "Please promise me you won't. Please."

"I promise," he whispered. When she continued to sob, he held her so that he could look into her eyes. "It's okay, Bobbi. I'm okay. I swear on our soon-to-be kingdom that I will never leave you again. I swear. Please stop crying, Bobbi. I love you." He placed his lips softly on each of her glistening cheeks, kissing away the tears. Then he touched his lips tenderly to hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck fragile-yet-firmly, holding on tightly but with a delicate grip. "Don't let go of me," she whispered.

"I won't," he promised, slipping them swiftly into bed, still in each other's arms.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Bobbi, Voldemort, Gregory, and Snape were absent. Discussion at the youths' table was odd:

"Well, I'm pretty sure I know what Bobbi and the Dark Lord are doing, but I can't imagine why Goyle's not here," Draco began.

"Gross!" Mel declared, covering his eyes, "Images! Images!"

"Oh, you know they do it," he scoffed.

"Yeah, but you don't have to plant the image in our minds," Blaise scolded.

"All I said was 'I know what they're doing.' That's as vague as it gets."

"But what about Goyle? What do you think he's doing?" Phil asked.

"He's probably up there with them," Crabbe suggested nonchalantly.

"Oh, now that's gross!" Draco exclaimed.

"Ew!" Mel cringed, pressing his hands to his ears, "That's soooo nasty!"

"Yeah, I mean that's completely uncalled for," Blaise scolded.

"I wonder if they'll fight over her," Crabbe pondered aloud.

"Who?" Phil asked.

"Goyle and the Dark Lord, of course. Don't tell me you never caught that. It is so obvious how much Goyle loves her."

"Well, yeah. But would he really challenge the Dark Lord for her?" Phil retorted.

"Jake did. He killed him, too. Well, temporarily at least," Blaise replied.

"Yeah, but Bobbi savagely murdered him for it, so he didn't win anyway," Draco reminded.

"But she didn't love Jake back," Crabbe argued.

"How do we know she loves Goyle?" Draco demanded.

"We assume since she barely let him out of her sight while the Master was away."

"Her husband had just died. She needed someone to toy with," Draco explained.

"You mean confide in," Phil corrected.

"That too."

"Why don't we just go to Goyle's room and see if he's in there? He might have overslept."

"Yeah, he's probably recovering from all those late nights spent in Bobbi's room," Crabbe supposed.

"Crabbe, you are the nastiest fellow here," Blaise exclaimed.

"I call it as I see it," he defended.

"You see it how you want it."

"As if I want my best mate in love with the Dark Lord's wife. How twisted do you think I am?"

"Let's quit arguing. I'm going to find out where Goyle is and end this once and for all," Phil declared, leaving the table.

The others quickly followed him. They knocked on Goyle's door together.

"Who is it?" Goyle called.

"Your friends," Phil answered.

"What do you want?" he asked without opening the door.

"To talk to you," Phil replied.

There was a pause. Then Goyle opened the door, still in his sleeping wear, "What?"

"Why weren't you at breakfast?" Draco started.

"Didn't feel like it," he answered simply.

"See? I told you," Crabbe said.

"That doesn't mean they were having an orgy!" Mel exclaimed.

"What?!" Goyle cried.

"You idiot! I meant the other thing, about recovering," Crabbe chided angrily.

"Oh," Mel grinned guiltily, then admitted to Goyle, "They thought you were doing it with the Masters."

"Shut up, Mel," Draco elbowed him.

"That's disgusting, you guys," Goyle reproved, shaking his head reproachfully, "I would never get naked for that nasty white man."

"Yeah, white men are rather nasty," Blaise agreed.

"Stop being racist," Phil scolded.

"Make me," Blaise challenged, standing at least a head taller than Phil.

"I will," Phil said, puffing his chest out at Blaise. Then he turned and yelled down the hall, "Bobbi!"

The congregation laughed. Blaise and Phil shook hands.

Suddenly, Goyle's stomach growled.

"You really should eat, mate," Crabbe insisted.

"I don't feel like going down there."

"Why not? What's wrong with you?" Draco inquired, "You always love to eat."

"I'm not hungry, okay?"

"Your stomach just growled," Mel pointed out.

"Drop it, okay? I'm going back to bed." He tried to shut his door, but the 5 friends wouldn't let him.

"You can't starve yourself," Crabbe insisted.

Goyle chuckled. He patted his large belly, "I'm not starving myself."

"Skipping a meal is starving yourself for guys like us," Crabbe explained.

"He obviously has a problem," Phil deduced, "You can tell us what's wrong. We're all men here."

"It's the woman I have a problem with, and she knows it. That spineless coward sent you guys down here to check on me, didn't she? She won't even face me herself."

"Bobbi didn't come to breakfast this morning," Phil explained, "She doesn't even know you didn't come."

His face softened slightly, "Oh. Well, that doesn't make me feel better. I'm going back to bed." He tried again to shut the door, but again they stopped him. "Can't you just let it go?"

"Not until you tell us what's wrong," Mel replied.

"Crabbe will tell you."

"Crabbe lies," Draco remarked.

"It's obviously about his love for Bobbi," Crabbe persisted.

"There. Now can I go back to sleep?"

"Wait, so it's true?" Mel exclaimed.

"Yes. Now leave me alone." He slammed the door roughly.

"I told you so. But no one ever believes me," Crabbe complained.

"Wait, but what really happened?" Blaise asked.

"Several weeks after the Dark Lord 'died' Goyle started spending every night with Bobbi."

"They were sleeping together?" Draco exclaimed.

"Ugh! Images!" Mel cried.

"It wasn't like that," Goyle called through the door. "You guys are so dirty-minded."

"What was it like, then?" Blaise asked.

"I'm not talking to you. Leave me alone."

"Fine. If you won't tell us, we'll go and ask Bobbi," Phil threatened.

Goyle did not respond.

"We don't want to bother her when she's _with_ the Master," Draco objected as they began walking toward their room.

"Yeah. I don't wanna walk in on them," Mel agreed, twitching.

"And if we disturb them when they've just been reunited, the Dark Lord might get us," Crabbe added.

"Bobbi wouldn't let him do that," Phil defended.

"Phil's right," Draco said, "She'd want to kill us herself."

"It's probably not a good idea to bother them. If they didn't come to breakfast, they obviously want to be alone," Blaise implied.

"We should get someone else to go up there for us. Let him get in trouble," Crabbe proposed.

"Wormtail," Draco suggested, "Yeah, Wormtail would do. He's dumb and wimpy and he'll be afraid to say no."

"Now to find Wormtail."

* * *

Up in the Masters' room, they were busy discussing matters of importance:

Bobbi frowned guiltily at Tom. "Tom, there's something I need to talk to you about, something that happened while you were allegedly dead."

Tom rolled his eyes, "I suspected this might happen. But that's what I get for marrying the most beautiful girl on the planet."

Tom's complement only made her frown deeper. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to. I wasn't going to. But you were dead, and I was in such a distressed mess, I needed some way to cope with my pain."

Tom looked at her expectantly. "Are you going to keep the baby?"

"The baby? No, I didn't _sleep_ with anyone. I only kissed one."

Tom's eyes widened, then he sighed in relief. "Gaw, you almost gave me a heart attack."

"Tom, I wouldn't cheat on you like that. I don't think I could ever love another man as much as I love you. And I would never betray you like that. I felt terrible just kissing him, but he was so understanding and I was such a wreck that I couldn't help myself."

"But you didn't sleep with him?"

"I didn't have sex with him."

Tom grinned. He wrapped his arms around Bobbi. "That's all that matters to me."

"I'm so sorry," she wept into his shoulder, "I have the stupidest way of dealing with pain."

"It's okay," he assured. "What are you going to do about the other one?"

"I don't know. Maybe I can persuade him to leave. He's not stupid like Jake. He knows to stay out of danger."

"It was that Goyle boy, wasn't it?"

"No," Bobbi sighed, "it was Wormtail."

"What?!?" he exclaimed loudly, pushing her away from him.

She cackled madly, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I can't believe you fell for that! How desperate do you think I am?"

Tom pouted, "I thought we agreed to be serious now."

"We did; I'm sorry. But that was the perfect setup; I just couldn't resist."

"I was right, though, wasn't I?"

Bobbi sighed, "Yes. You know he's been after me since the day I got here."

"Yes, I know. It's terribly obvious how much he loves you. The poor boy."

"I know. I'm a terrible choice of pursuit."

"I do have to admit, although the prize is well worth it, it is quite a pain pursuing you."

"But you still love me, right?" she asked seriously, looking at him with apologetic eyes.

He smiled a small, loving smile, "Yes. I will always love you." He kissed her forehead.

A sudden knock startled them. "Masters?" Wormtail's voice came.

"Hey, it's your replacement," Bobbi declared.

Tom smirked at her, "You may be my wife, but I can still spank you."

"Ooh, I might like that," she giggled.

"You're terrible."

"You love me."

"Unfortunately." He smiled at his joke. Then he called, "Come in, Wormtail."

Wormtail appeared with a pop. He stared at the two in silence.

"What is it, Wormtail?" Voldemort snapped.

"The M-M-Master is needed d-d-down stairs-s-s," he informed them.

"Why? Who needs me?" Voldemort demanded.

"N-n-not you. Qu-Qu-Queen Bobbi."

"Oh. Who needs me?" Bobbi asked softly.

"Your friends, they said," Wormtail answered easily, "The youngest ones."

Bobbi rolled her eyes. "I can't get a minute alone. It's like I'm their mother or something. They probably had a fight and need me to settle it." She looked back at Wormtail, "Tell them I'll be there shortly."

With a bow, Wormtail departed.

Tom groaned. "We need to have another honeymoon. Maybe then we can get some peace."

Bobbi sighed, "I hope this doesn't take long. I guess I should get it over with." She hopped out of bed. "I'll be back soon."

Tom grabbed her wrist. "Don't you think you should get dressed first?" he chuckled.

Bobbi glanced down at her outfit, then giggled. "Oops. Where would I be without you?"

After she got dressed, she hurried down to the boys, who were standing in a group outside her bedroom door.

"What's up, guys?" she smiled casually.

They crossed their arms simultaneously and gave her identical looks of disappointment.

Her pleasant smile dropped. "This is serious, isn't it?"

They nodded their heads in unison.

"Gosh, you guys look like a boy band with all this synchronization."

They rolled their eyes together.

"Okay, you guys are starting to freak me out. Just tell me what you want."

They opened their mouths together, then they chuckled. "Yeah, I think we went far enough with this," Draco admitted.

"So, why'd you call me here?" Bobbi asked.

"You seem to have a problem with Goyle," Phil hinted.

"Goyle? Oh, you mean Gregory. What kind of problem?"

"Drop the act. We know about your nights together," Crabbe accused.

Bobbi raised an eyebrow, "What has he been telling you?"

"It doesn't matter what he told us," Blaise said, "You two obviously have a problem you need to settle, and since he's too much of a chicken to confront you himself, we decided to step in. Go talk to him. He's in his room, not eating and ignoring us."

Bobbi sighed, "I guess I do need to talk to him. No use in procrastinating it. But if I talk to him now, ya'll gotta promise me something."

"What?" Draco asked.

"Don't bother me for the rest of the day."

After a moment of discussion, they agreed. The boys dispersed and Bobbi headed to Gregory's room.

She knocked on his door twice.

"What do you want?" he sneered.

"We need to talk," she stated.

"That's what you always say before you break somebody's heart."

"Don't be like that. You know this isn't how I planned things to happen."

"Oh, of course it's not your fault. It's never your fault," he replied sarcastically.

"Can we just talk about this?"

"I don't want to talk."

"I don't either."

"Then leave."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because we need to talk."

"Why do we have to?"

"Because I don't want to kill you."

Silence. Bobbi bit her lip. She had gone too far. "Gregory-"

"Maybe I should kill myself."

"No!" She busted down his door, startling him out of his seat. She glared at him angrily. "Darn it, stop being so difficult! This is as hard for me as it is for you."

"Why? You've got your husband back."

"Exactly. So now I have to choose."

"You've already chosen. But either way, you get what you want. Either way, you have a man to snuggle with at night. Well, what about the other man, Bobbi? What happens to the one you reject? He ends up hurt, devastated with his heart torn out and no one to comfort him. At least you have someone to hold you when you cry. At least you can always feel safe in the arms of your current lover. At least you know that no matter what happens, someone will always be there to love you and care for you. None of us have that assurance. None of us can ever be sure that you will comfort him when he needs it. None of us can trust you not to hurt us. You have a safety none of us can afford or obtain, neither from you nor anyone else. You especially cannot offer it to us. You toy with our feelings and use us when you need us, when you are sad and need a shoulder to cry on. Then you toss us aside like dirty tissue and move on to the next clean one. How can you live with yourself? How can you do this to so many guys and still continue on happily? How can you openly screw with us and still manage to find another replacement whenever you need it?"

Bobbi had her head bowed in disgrace. "You're right. That's exactly how I am. That is what I have been for so long that I stopped counting the years. I am a siren. I lure unsuspecting men into my trap and devour them. Then I come back for their friends who, although they just watched them die, fall for me anyway and end up with the same fate. It's how I am! It's who I am. It's what I was raised, who I was _born_ to be. But what you don't realize is how I feel. What you don't realize is all the pain, guilt, remorse I feel because of my life. And what you don't realize is that I can't help it. I can't restrain myself from hurting my friends. In the past, I did this for fun. Now I despise the way I am, but I can't stop. I don't know how. I've live for so long doing exactly this that I don't know how else to live. But I'm trying. I pursued a guy, for once, that I actually liked. I was myself around him. I did the things I like to do and acted the way I like to act because that's who I am, not who he wanted me to be. And that's how I found out that he loves me for me and not for who I could pretend to be. And even when I mess up, he forgives me because he truly loves me and understands that I have flaws and he accepts that. And when he messes up, I forgive him because I truly love him and I accept that he too makes mistakes. He is the one that changed me. He is the one I changed for. He is the reason I can and I will entirely stop playing those games with other men. He is my soul mate; the sun to my moon. He is what keeps my world spinning, what stops me from going back to my old, twisted ways. And - I'm sorry, Gregory - he's not you." She turned to leave, stopped in the doorway, and over her shoulder, added, "I warned you. Crabbe warned you. Snape probably warned you, too. But still, I'm really sorry." Then she flew out the door elegantly, causing a wind of heartbreak to lash back at him as she left him in her dust.

* * *

Back in their room, Bobbi leaned against the wall as she spoke to her husband, refusing to sit on the bed with him until she felt less guilty. "I talked to Gregory," she admitted, her head downward cast.

"What did he say?" Tom asked.

"He hates me. He pointed out all my flaws before he let me say a thing. But I deserve it."

"You don't deserve it, Bobbi. You're only human. Everyone makes mistakes."

"Don't try to cheer me up. I feel awful for how stupid I've been since we got back from our honeymoon. You're right, though. We do need to have another honeymoon. And maybe this time we shouldn't come back." She smiled slightly.

Tom smiled. "Yeah, I'd be up for that. Maybe I should get you pregnant so that we have an excuse to get away and not return."

Bobbi giggled. She was starting to feel better.

"Of course, that won't be possible with you leaning against that wall over there," he hinted.

"You just want to get me in bed."

"As you teenagers put it: duh."

Bobbi smiled, then hurried into her husband's lap. She pushed him down on his back, kissing him vigorously to make up for all those nights he had been absent due to his 'death.'

But as Tom was taking Bobbi's shirt off, a loud, angry knock interrupted them. "Bobbi, come out here right now," came Crabbe's enraged voice.

"Follow my lead," Bobbi whispered to Tom. Before she explained further, she moaned loudly, "Oh yes, Tom, yes!"

"Gross!" came Draco's voice.

"Images! Images!" Mel exclaimed.

Bobbi and Tom snickered mutedly together. "You are so bad," Tom whispered.

"That ain't nothing. Listen to this. This will be funny." Then she reared back her head and wolf-howled loudly.

The two snickered even harder, and it was hard to keep quiet.

"My turn," Tom whispered. He picked up his phoenix wand from the night stand and swished it, muttering a spell. Immediately, an explosion sound filled the air. They laughed again.

"I'm a bad influence on you, aren't I?" Bobbi giggled, pressing her lips to his excitedly. Again they were consumed by passion, and again they were interrupted. But this time Crabbe had Apperated himself into the room

"Ew!" Crabbe shrieked, shielding his eyes and Disapperated immediately.

The two lovers laughed loudly.

"Bobbi, come out of there!" Draco ordered.

"No. We had a deal," she reminded him.

"But you hurt him," Phil objected.

"He started it. I was just explaining things to him. And it's his fault for taking advantage of me. Besides, he doesn't want to talk to me anyway. He wants you guys."

"He won't talk to us."

"Then how do you know I hurt him?"

"Because he wants to kill himself!"

That got Bobbi's attention. She cursed under her breath. "I hate teenagers," she muttered. She laid her head on Tom's chest, "I don't want to go, but I have to. This is my fault."

Tom hugged her tightly, then let her go. "You owe me for this. You promised me a whole day."

"And you'll get one soon. I promise."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Go do what you must."

Bobbi dressed quickly and disappeared into the hall. Outside, the boys were waiting for her. She crossed her arms, "This had better be important."

"It is," Draco snapped, "This is our friend's life that's at stake. We'd better hurry, too."

They walked rapidly through the hallways.

"So what exactly did Gregory say?" Bobbi asked.

"He's going to hurt himself," Blaise answered, leading them up a dark stairway.

"Why are we going up to the Owlery? And why is Crabbe's nose bleeding?" Bobbi asked.

"Goyle punched me when I tried to knock him to the ground," Crabbe answered, not meeting her gaze.

"Why did you want to knock him down?"

"To stop him from doing that," Blaise answered, pointing at a window of the tower where Gregory stood leaning out slightly.

Bobbi gasped. "What are you doing?" she screamed.

He jumped, startled, and turned to look at his accuser. He had tears running down his cheeks.

Bobbi's anger dissipated as remorse took its place. She stepped to the front of the group and called, "Gregory, come down from there."

"Why should I?" he cried back.

"Because we love you. You are our friend."

"You don't love me. None of you do," he spat.

"That's not true," Mel told him.

"Yeah, mate, we love you," Crabbe confirmed. They all nodded their heads in agreement.

"And we need you," Bobbi continued.

"You don't need me anymore. You've got your husband," he remarked bitterly.

"But he doesn't listen like you do. And he's not fun to hang out with like you are."

"But apparently he's fun to _lay_ around with," Crabbe mumbled. Bobbi elbowed him hard.

"He's delicious, too," she whispered to him.

"Ugh!" Crabbe grimaced, covering his ears.

"But what's the point of living if he's gonna kill me anyway? Might as well get it over with."

"He's not going to kill you. If you promise to get over me, he'll leave you alone."

"You're a liar," he accused.

"If I was lying, why would I be trying to talk you out of this?"

Gregory had no answer. He turned back to face the outside.

"Gregory, I swear if you jump, I'll jump after you," Bobbi threatened.

"What kind of a threat is that?"

"I'll be terribly mad if I have to jump, and you will be in serious trouble."

"I'll be dead! What do I care?"

"Like I'd let you die."

"How could you save me?"

"Jump and find out."

Gregory hesitated, then leapt.

Bobbi growled, leapt agilely out the window, and phased into a werewolf. She grabbed Gregory and held him tightly in her arms, cradling him. She landed with a loud thud on the hard ground, but remained standing and walked easily away, still holding Gregory. She dropped him roughly outside the door. Then she phased back. Furiously, she pointed her finger at him in a motherly fashion. "Although that was fun, you are still in a lot of trouble, mister. You are getting a time out." She pinched his ear and pulled him forcefully into the Lair. She dragged him into the dungeon. "Give me your wand."

Hesitantly, he handed it over. She shoved it into her pocket. "Now, you have two options: You can stay in here, locked to the wall by your ankle, all alone until dinner; or you can stay in here and talk to your friends about your problems until dinner. Either way, you are going to sit here and think about what you've done until dinner. So which is it?"

Gregory crossed his arms. "I'll talk my friends," he decided after a moment.

Bobbi nodded. She left the room and returned shortly after with the other 5 boys. "Now, I want you all to discuss this issue we're having with trust and such. None of you are to leave, especially not Gregory. I will know if you do."

"How?" Mel questioned.

Bobbi smiled smugly. "Ed will tell me." She snapped her fingers and with a pop, a house-elf appeared.

"Yes, Mistress Bobbi?" the elf responded.

"Ed, you are to watch these boys and make sure none of them leave. At dinner time, they may leave. Make sure they stay on task and talk about their problems. And I give you permission to defend yourself if they try to hurt you, but _only_ if they try to hurt you. If things get out of hand, come and tell me. You know where I'll be."

"Yes, Mistress Bobbi," he complied.

Bobbi addressed the boys, "Ed is my favorite house-elf. He has serious skills. But if he gives me a bad report, you boys will be in much greater trouble than a time out."

The boys nodded their understanding. Bobbi fled the room hastily.

* * *

Back in their room, Bobbi and Tom were finally getting some alone time.

"You know, this isn't as fun when you're so tense," Tom pointed out.

"I'm sorry. It's not like I can help it. I'm just so stressed out from having to deal with all these problems. However did you make it? I mean, your job is so hard and demanding; how do you do it?"

Tom chuckled. "I'm used to it. It was pretty hard the first couple years, but I managed. But none of my issues were quite as emotional as yours. I'm sure you could do it if all these boys were eunuchs."

Bobbi chuckled. "Yeah, maybe. But then it wouldn't be as fun. And I wouldn't have married you."

"Oh, so you so only love me for my -"

"Shut up. I wouldn't bring up this topic with me if I were you. In this field, I'm a veteran."

"And oddly I'm okay with that."

"Because I know what I'm doing?"

"Because I know you must have had worse."

Bobbi laughed. "You're not half bad, you know."

"Yeah. I just wish you'd loosen up so you'd enjoy it more."

"I need a massage."

"I could give you one," he proposed.

"Would you?" she asked hopefully, "I would feel so much better if you did. And I would be eternally grateful."

He smiled and kissed her. "Of course."

* * *

On the other side of the Lair, Snape sat in his dark study, lost deep in thought. Presently, he did not know how to feel. Part of him was mourning the loss of the relationship he'd known wouldn't last from the beginning, but that part thought itself illogical since he and Bobbi really hadn't been an item even to themselves. Another part of him pondered the future now that Bobbi's husband was back and he was yet again just a best friend. This part was not sad. It was inquisitive, speculative. A third part sat with the first part and reminisced morosely about how he had for a second time been rejected by the girl he loved for another man whom she loved greater. The first part consoled that part by reminding it that he and Bobbi were not in love and were still best friends just as he wanted it to be. The third part cried over Lily as Snape often inwardly did. A fourth part vaguely plotted the death of the Master and fantasized jokingly about ending up with his girl. And a fifth part sympathized for young Gregory Goyle who was really and truly in love with the Master's wife, and wondered shortly about how he was coping now. But Severus Snape continued to sit blank-faced and ignorant to the rest of the world. All parts agreed that he wanted to talk to Bobbi, but he knew that she would be busy with her more pressing boy issues. But he didn't want to think about that because the pictures were awful. His stomach grumbled, but he barely took notice of it. He was too consumed by thought to think of consuming.

* * *

Down in the dungeon, six young, male Death Eaters sat in a circle and talked about their feelings, supervised only by an aging house-elf:

"What are we supposed to be talking about anyways?" Draco asked irritably.

"Bobbi said to talk about our feelings," Mel remembered.

"Bobbi is loony," Draco exclaimed.

"But she's our queen. We have to do what she says," Phil argued.

"Mother knows best," Mel giggled.

"Why are we down here in the first place?" Draco griped.

"Because Goyle is in love with the Dark Lord's wife," Blaise answered.

"Was," Goyle corrected sourly.

"But that's their problem, not ours."

"Obviously if you were better friends to him, he wouldn't be in love with her now," Ed suggested. They all looked at him. "I'm just saying," he shrugged.

"Was!" Goyle cried loudly.

"You have a smart mouth for a house-elf," Draco sneered.

Ed smirked, "Excuse me, sir, for me poor manners."

"Look at Draco arguing with a house-elf," Mel laughed.

"Shut up, Mel," Draco snapped.

"Well, Goyle, this is about you. What do you wanna talk about?" Phil asked.

"I'm not in love with her!" Goyle yelled.

"Then why are we down here?" Draco complained.

"Because he's suicidal," Crabbe answered.

"I'm not suicidal," Goyle objected.

"You jumped off a tower, mate."

"I was trying to hurt Bobbi. I figured that she'd feel bad if she was the cause of my death," Goyle explained defensively.

"That's stupid," Draco criticized, "Why not hurt the Master instead. Then he would have killed you, but at least you would've had better revenge."

"I dunno. I guess I didn't think about it. The tower thing made sense when I first thought of it. I guess it was rather stupid. But it's not like I could have actually hurt him anyway. He'd have killed me before I could have raised my wand. And he'd have recovered anyway," Goyle pouted.

"You aren't gonna try anything else, are you?" Draco asked.

Goyle glared at him for a long time, trying to think of a witty reply. After a while, he sighed and answered, "No."

"In that case, I think we've solved this problem. Now what do we do?"

"Let's make up nasty rumors about the Masters," Crabbe suggested vindictively.

"Or we could try to guess what they're doing up there."

"I don't have to guess," Crabbe said, "I saw it when I Apperated into their room. They were-"

"We don't wanna know what you saw," Draco cut him off, covering his ears.

"She had her shirt off," Crabbe informed them, "And she has the biggest boobs I've ever seen."

"They were probably the only ones you've ever seen, too," Blaise snickered.

Crabbe scowled. Then he turned to Goyle, "Goyle, you've seen them. Aren't they big?"

"As much as I'd rather not talk about this, I'd have to agree. They are huge."

"They don't look that big to me," Mel said.

"That's because she wears clothes that hide them. You've never seen her with her shirt off. You wouldn't know." Crabbe rolled his eyes as if it were obvious.

"How do you know I haven't seen her with her shirt off?" he argued, "I might have."

"Because you're too young for her to show you anything, and she's been with _him_ the whole time you've been here."

"Hmph." Mel crossed his arms childishly.

"Can we get something to eat? I'm starving," Goyle suggested.

The room sat in silence for a moment.

"Well, house-elf?" Draco sneered.

"Sorry, but I'm under the Queen's orders to watch you, and I can't watch you if I'm gone. However, I'm sure another house-elf would do it if you summoned them," Ed replied. When no one made a move to summon another, Ed snapped his fingers and two smaller house-elves appeared.

"Yes, Sir?" they both said in unison.

"These boys would like some lunch."

* * *

Up in the Masters' room, things were heating up.

"A little harder," Bobbi said, "Oh, yeah. That feels good."

"Wow, you are really tight."

"I won't be when you get finished. You are amazing at this. Did you ever do this for a living? I did."

Tom smirked, "Well, I was quite the lady's man when I was younger, and for good reason. Women were always satisfied when I did them."

"Well, you are doing a fantastic job."

"Thanks. And by the way, you have a gorgeous back."

"A little to the left. Oh, yeah. That's the spot."

Tom maneuvered his hands professionally around her back, rubbing each surface and bend until all the muscles were relaxed perfectly.

"Ah, that feels so much better. Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Bobbi commented.

Tom chuckled, "You only love me for my wicked skills of massage."

"You are mistaken. I only love you for your mad skills in bed," she joked.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her naked stomach. He began gently caressing her back with his lips. She giggled and wriggled underneath him, "Did you just kiss a heart on my back?"

"Perhaps," he smiled, caressing her back once more.

She rolled slowly to face him, taking his jaw in her hand and bringing it to her face. "Why don't you take your lips off my back and move them to my mouth?"

Tom smiled, then kissed her tenderly, savoring the feeling of having her back in his arms at last. "I love you so much," he breathed.

"I love you too," Bobbi replied breathlessly.

"I don't ever want to leave you again," he said, pulling her closer.

"There will never be a need," she assured him passionately.

* * *

When dinnertime rolled around, everyone was eating in the Dining Hall except the two Masters.

"How long can two people do that without a break?" Draco inquired disgustedly. "I mean, can they make it any more obvious what they are doing?" he added.

"It's like he's trying to get her pregnant," Goyle remarked.

"I wonder what that baby would look like," Crabbe pondered.

"Either hideously ugly or beautiful beyond belief," Goyle speculated.

"A baby would be fun," Mel commented.

"A baby would be torture," Draco argue, "Can you imagine that screaming little brat crying his head off and the Dark Lord trying to comfort it? I don't think he could. I bet they'd shove it off on us so that they can have peaceful 'alone time' together. Absolute torture!"

"I'd take care of it," Mel pouted.

"I don't think they have the time for a baby," Phil observed, "You can't raise a child in these conditions anyway. I mean, can you imagine the life of that child? Everyone would constantly be trying to kill it."

"Including its father. He is not patient enough for a baby. He wouldn't be able to put up with its crying," Goyle added.

"I wonder what they would name it," Mel pondered.

"Something generic like Prince probably," Draco said.

"Or something crazy like Scorpius," Blaise laughed.

"I like that name!" Draco defended.

"Well, we all know what you'll name your child, then," Blaise sniggered.

"I hope they use protection. There's no telling what that nasty, white man has."

"Him? It's Bobbi who was voted most likely to catch something. I mean, look at her; she has no trouble getting some," Goyle countered.

"Can we talk about something else," Mel whined, "This is stupid."

"Mel's right," Phil said, "I wouldn't doubt you talk more about their sex-life than they themselves."

"They don't talk about it because they do it."

"All the same, it is time to drop the subject."

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know it ran waaaaaaaaay too long. I tried to split it up, honestly, but I couldn't find an acceptable place to do that. Thanks to all my very loyal readers who have made it this far. More to come soon, so hit that review button and tell me what you think.**


	17. Of Love and Potions

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I won't and if I did I wouldn't have written this fanfic._

**A/N: This is the last chapter. It has taken a long time to get here, but I'm still sad that it's drawing to an end. Big part of my life right here. Please enjoy!**

* * *

When at last the Masters left their room the next morning for breakfast, the first person to talk to them was Snape. He joined them where they had been sitting alone at the Masters' table.

"Good morning, Dark Lord and Lady," he greeted, sitting across the table from them.

"Good morning, Snape," Bobbi smiled.

Voldemort acknowledged him with an uncaring nod of his head. Good, so he didn't know. Bobbi hadn't told him. Of course not.

"If it is alright, I need to see Bobbi in the Potions chamber after breakfast."

Bobbi looked to her husband for approval, and he nodded to her. She smiled and told Snape, "Okay."

"By the way," began Voldemort, "We will be having an Inner Circle meeting today after dinner. Inform the others as well."

"Yes, Sir," Snape complied, leaving them.

After breakfast, Bobbi accompanied Snape to the Potions chamber. Safely inside the room alone, Snape turned to Bobbi and said, "We need to talk."

Bobbi nodded, "I think I know what this is about."

"We're not going to tell him."

"Of course not."

"And we're going to pretend like it never happened."

"It really was nothing."

"And we're never going to talk about it again."

"Never even happened."

"Right. Anything else?"

"We're going to remain friends," Bobbi said.

"Of course."

"We're not going to let it come between us."

"It really was nothing."

"And we're only going to kiss when we're absolutely positive that we're alone."

"What?" Snape asked, taken aback.

Bobbi smirked, "That last one was a joke. You do you, and I'll do the Master. I mean me."

Snape frowned slightly, "Could you be serious for once?"

"I find it quite impossible, actually."

Snape smirked, "Then I trust you. You are the Bobbi I love the most."

"In a friendly sort of way," Bobbi smiled.

Snape smirked, "Yes, of course."

* * *

After the extremely long Inner Circle meeting that took forever because Voldemort had to be caught up to the present due to his absence, the Masters retired to their room.

As Bobbi was changing for bed, Tom asked, "So what did Snape want at breakfast?"

_Sex,_ was her first thought, but she remembered that such jokes would be inappropriate at the time, so she chose another joke she thought to be less dangerous. "Oh, he just wanted to ask me how to make a love potion. See, he's got his eye on this cute little house-elf…"

"Love potion?" Tom's back stiffened. "Do you know how to make a love potion? Have you ever used a love potion?"

"Why would I need to? Look at me. I have better ways of enticing men."

Tom turned rigidly to look at her, his face full of anger.

Bobbi's eyes widened, "Tom, what's wrong?"

"Did you use a love potion on me?" he asked furiously, his face reddening.

"What? No, Tom, I was-"

"Don't lie to me!" he cut her off fiercely.

Bobbi fell to the floor, cringing from his deadly rage. "Tom, I was just kidding. I've never used a love potion, never," she squeaked in a frightened voice.

"How can I trust you?" he yelled.

She threw her arms in front of her face protectively and shrank back against the wall as far as she could. "I'm sorry," she whimpered.

Voldemort's anger quickly dissipated as he reevaluated their relationship. They had both died physically while they had been together, and he was sure that the effects of the potion wore off after the death of either party. His rage turned to remorse. He called her name softly, "Bobbi."

She continued to hide her face from him, trembling in fear. She did not reply.

Tom dropped to his knees carefully and approached Bobbi cautiously. He held his hand out to her, but did not touch her. "Bobbi, I'm sorry. I really am. I overreacted. Please. Don't be mad at me. I'm really sorry."

When she didn't respond, he hid his face in his hands as the silent, stupid, uncontainable tears began to escape his eyes. Tears were so stupid. He used to have no problem with them. He used to have control. He used to have no emotions, or so he believed. But this girl had changed everything. She had given him a heart, given him emotions. And now he had messed things up again.

When she heard him sniffling, she unfurled from her protective ball. She peered at him between her fingers, then crawled over to him and put an arm around his shoulders. "Tom?" she cooed.

"Don't be mad at me," he whispered.

She kissed his cheek, "Of course not. I'm sorry, Tom. I forgot about your parents. I shouldn't have made that stupid joke. I'm sorry." She rested her chin on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his cheek. Slowly, he turned his head to find her lips with his own. "Are you still mad at me?" she asked after a while.

"No," he breathed, wrapping his arms lovingly around her and pulling her into his lap. He rested his back against a wall and held her as she held him and they kissed.

* * *

**End of Book 1.**

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* * *

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A/N: Haha! Yes, readers, this is only the first book of Bobbi's story. My second book, "Obsessive Misbehavior" will hopefully be appearing soon. Until then, thank you so much for all your help and encouragement! I hope you've enjoyed this psychotic use of my time!


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